Fuse
by hurricanerin
Summary: After becoming King, Loki declared war on Vanaheim. When he discovers a highborn girl masquerading as a commoner in one of his camps, he takes a special interest in making her his plaything.
1. Changes Coming Prologue

The king surged forward, thrusting his hips with a brutal force sure to bruise the girl beneath him. The girl wrapped her legs around his middle, causing him to growl.

"You are out of line," he hissed.

With a pouty whine, she relaxed her legs, letting them fall open on either side of him.

"I'm sorry, my King," she panted, smiling coyly, "You know I can't help it."

She moaned underneath him but he simply kept his pace, focusing on his pleasure. His hips wrenched forward, smacking loudly against hers as he thrust. With a grunt he pulled out, stroking himself to completion. His head fell back as he came on her belly while the girl beneath him writhed in exaggerated pleasure. Still panting, the King fell onto the mattress as the girl rose to clean herself. Several minutes later she returned and plopped down next to him. She snuck a kiss to his cheek, but pulled away before he could shove her himself. The girl knew better than that.

With a sigh, Loki looked at his now sleeping bedmate. Unfortunately, this one had expired. What was her name? Inga? Ina? Something like that. The girl had turned into one of those silly chits that fancied themselves in love with him. She'd only been his captive whore for several months. Such a shame. It was time for a new plaything. One that didn't look at him with such sickening adoration.


	2. Here We Are

Four female servants were required to hold Brynja down in order to bathe her. She splashed and hissed, kicked and scratched but the women were far more frightened of their King's wrath than the tantrum of some noblewoman, and held her still. They washed her in water saturated with sweet smelling oils, rinsing the grime of imprisonment from her slender body, and then dressed her.

Though she was too skinny, her clean golden skin glowed from beneath the cream gown. The dress itself looked benign in the hands of the servants; It wasn't until they began draping it over her that Brynja realized though the piece was made of chiffon and silk, the expensive materials mocked her status with the slave-like style of garb. Lush fabrics draped over her tall form and, once arranged, left her feeling more nude than before donning the dress. Her breasts were almost completely exposed and her midriff was bare. The skirt of her gown was connected to the top with only an intricate piece of glittering metal that began at her navel and flared around her hips as a belt.

Once the girl was prepared, a soldier appeared to escort Brynja to the Asgardian King she'd been selected for. Several weeks passed in the prisoner enclosures before anyone realized who she was. News of an escaped Princess eventually traveled to the camps, and with her refined manners and crisp, clear speech, the poor thing stuck out like a rose amongst weeds. She'd tried to dumb down her vocabulary and annunciation, but her impeccable posture and beauty contributed in giving her away.

Everyone refused to tell her of her family, or what the King wanted from her specifically. Her attendants and the soldier led her barefoot through the camp and approached a grand canvas tent in the center of the barracks. She swallowed hard as she gazed at the elaborate structure. She wasn't stupid. Brynja knew the fate of most women in times of war was bleak at best. Though Asgardian soldiers were rumored to be more honorable than most, tales of rape still trickled into the pens.

Her pace slowed as they neared the tent and the man gave her a rough push through the entry. Brynja yelped and stumbled to her knees, the rich carpet abrading her sensitive skin. As she pushed up off the ground, she gazed at the interior of the tent. She had never seen such lavish quarters during times of war. The pavilion flickered with soft light. Lanterns spotted the support beams, illuminating the sleeping portion of the tent. There lay a bed bedecked with satin pillows and rich, pine colored afghans.

The King lay reclined on his cot, idly tossing and catching one of his prized throwing knives. Surely he heard her fall, but he remained ensconced in his mundane act. The soldier and maids shuffled in behind the Princess and the man cleared his throat. Catching his knife one last time before stowing it in his armor, the King glanced at the troupe as if he hadn't heard them enter. When he smiled, Brynja shuddered at the wicked gleam in his eye.

The King rose and moved to a plush chair, plopping down with feigned exhaustion. His legs were splayed open and he sat in a casual position Brynja had never seen royalty assume.

"Welcome, guests!"

Distracted by his inappropriately cheerful tone, Brynja didn't notice one of the women draw close behind her. To her horror, the servant plucked at the ties holding her dress together, unfastening the gown and causing the fabric to pool at her feet. Immediately she scrambled to cover herself, scowling at the maiden who simply smirked and stepped back, leaving the Princess several feet in front of the others, completely exposed.

Loki fussed with a bit of dried blood on his armor. Without looking up, he spoke.

"My men tell me you are a Princess."

Brynja blinked, staring at him with a blank face. She cocked a dark brow.

When he received no response, the King looked up, annoyed. He considered her. His

gaze was appraising rather than carnal.

"You are rather plain for royalty. Even for a Vana."

Brynja's eyes widened at the insult. She felt her cheeks heat in anger and humiliation.

She knew she was fortunate when it came to her appearance. The girl had long, thick lashes and dark hair that hung in curls around her shoulders. She had a sharp nose and lush, pink lips and warm, cognac colored eyes that shone with intelligence. He was just trying to get a rise out of her.

"I'm _rather plain_ because I'm naked," she snapped.

The King's face erupted in a grin and he looked to his soldier.

"Oh, I _like_ her. Where did you find such a delectable little peach?"

"We caught her escaping the castle with the other servants, Your Highness. She was held

in the pens until we realized who she was."

Loki tossed the man a small leather pouch that jingled with coins.

"Well done. Now, be gone. The Princess and I have much to discuss."

As the others left, the King stood collected a flagon of wine and a goblet. With a

pleased sigh he poured a glass.

While he busied himself with the drink, Brynja knelt, her eyes locked on his turned back as she frantically searched for her dress with an outstretched hand.

"Enough of that," Loki called over his shoulder.

How did he know? Quest abandoned, she slowly rose to her feet.

When he finally finished with the wine, he turned and strode back to his chair, placing the goblet on the table next to him.

"Come," he beckoned.

Nothing good could come of obeying his command. Absolutely nothing.

He sensed her hesitation.

"Normally I enjoy games, little one. But not tonight. Come, sit on my lap. I want to see you, darling."

Reluctantly Brynja padded forward. He patted his thigh. The girl furrowed her brow in distaste when Loki grabbed her wrist and yanked her into his lap.

"See?" Nonchalantly he pet her thigh. "That was not so difficult, was it?"

The King stroked her cheek with the back of his finger, causing her to flinch and look away.

"Now, now. Tell me your name, you demure little thing."

"Demure I am not," she grit. "I simply don't care to have giant louts manhandling me while I'm nude."

Loki chuckled and caressed her hair, brushing it behind her shoulder. His finger trailed to her collarbone, where her own shielding hands interrupted his path.

"Remove your hands or I will remove them for you."

Obstinately she stared him in the eye, unmoving.

Before she could blink, Loki snatched both her wrists in one hand and wrenched them behind her back, eliciting a whimper from the poor girl.

"I told you," he growled, "No games tonight."

"This isn't a game for me," she whispered.

After a beat his brows rose in understanding. She was a virgin. It took but a moment for his lips to curl into a most lascivious grin.

"Oh, it will be soon enough. This _game_ of mine is a delightful pastime."

Casually the King jerked her by her arms, forcing her chest forward. Immediately she began wriggling, clearly unaware of the effect such an act tends to have when seated in a man's lap.

"Stop that." He chided her like she was an unruly child.

Brynja's lip curled in anger, but she held still. Loki picked up the goblet and held it to her lips. Defiantly she turned away, keeping her mouth from him.

Loki sighed.

"That just will not do, little peach."

He thumbed her lip with a satisfied smirk as he pondered. When his eyes lit up, she knew _some_ type of game was about to begin, and she was already on the losing team.

Loki dipped two fingers into the wine before quickly routing them to her lips.

"Open."

She stared at him, her warm brown eyes glittering with rage.

With the hand that held her on his lap, he slapped her thigh. When she yelped, he slipped his fingers into her mouth with a satisfied smile. He repeated the act, and yet again she needed the prompting of his had smacking her rear in order to persuade her to open. Finally, she parted her lips of her own accord, taking his fingers with less resistance. She did consider biting him, but opted not to due to her lack of escape plan.

The third time he moved his dripping fingers from the wine goblet to her lips, he held them there.

"Suck."

When she spat them out, he roughly grabbed her jaw at the joint, forcing it open with his thumb and index finger. He held the two fingers of his other hand against her lips.

"Open and suck. Now."

Glaring up at him, she paused before she nervously took his digits between her lips and hollowing her cheeks, applying pressure.

"Good girl," he murmured, nuzzling her jaw with his nose. If she recoiled as she wished to, his fingers would slip from her mouth and she had a feeling he wouldn't be pleased. She didn't like his face so close. He smelled like sweat and leather and… something that must be uniquely him. Brynja shivered. His proximity was having a negative effect on her thinking abilities.

With a wet smack, he pulled his digits from her lips. Brynja wiped her mouth with a glare.

"That was not so bad, was it?"

When she didn't answer, he chuckled.

"Are you ready to take a drink by yourself?"

She nodded, obediently sipping from the goblet when he held it to her lips. The wine burned down her throat, making her otherwise empty belly feel deliciously warm. Loki allowed her to take several drinks, pulling the cup away from her lips so she could swallow properly. On the third sip she tried to turn her head, but he sank a fist into her soft, dark curls and held her still. He tipped the cup and she had the choice of swallowing or choking, so she surrendered.

The girl felt slightly fuzzy as the wine took effect. It was more comfortable to lean against his chest than to sit prim and proper, so she relaxed in his arms.

"There's a good girl," he rumbled in her ear. This time, the King felt her quake. With her head against his chest, she could feel him chuckle.

"Let us see what you have learned, hmm?" His voice was low and she felt the tips of his fingers against her lips once more. This time, it didn't seem so bad, though his hand was at an uncomfortable angle. His short nails scraped against the tender roof of her mouth. Gingerly she gripped his wrist and adjusted the position, increasing her suction once she was more comfortable.

When Loki groaned, she stopped, her brows raised in surprise and his digits slipping from her mouth. Her cheeks flamed pink.

"What's wrong?"

The King shifted on the chair beneath her and she felt an unfamiliar pressure against her leg. Upon glancing down, Loki grabbed the back of her head and forced his slippery fingers back into her.

With a grin, he began to fuck her mouth, smirking when he pushed back far enough that she coughed and pulled away, covering her mouth as she recovered, chest heaving.

After several minutes of pumping, he pulled out of her mouth and examined his saliva-drenched fingers with interest. He scissored them, nodding in approval at the string of drool that clung between each digit.

"Good enough. On the bed," he motioned. "Get on your back."

Brynja rose from his lap and cautiously sat on the bed, watching him warily. To the best of her ability she covered herself with her hands. Her stomach rolled. Not even the wine could make her brave enough for this.

"Do you get off on this? Forcing yourself on women? Does it make you feel powerful?"

Loki roughly pushed her chest, shoving her into a supine position on the bed with an _oomph_.

"I _am_ powerful, kitten. And yes, I _get off_ on this very much, as will you."

His captive laughed sardonically.

"Will I, now?"

Loki spread her thighs and knelt between them. When she tried to resist, he dug his fingertips into her tender flesh. Laying between her legs, the corner of the King's mouth curled as he looked up at her from beneath hooded lids. Brynja's breath hitched.

"Yes, pet, you will."

When his damp fingers traced her slit, she jumped, her courage dwindling.

"Please don't," she whispered. She looked at him pleadingly.

Loki purred, taking in her frightened expression with a lecherous smile.

"You will like it, I promise. Fight if you must, but I will get my due."

The kick Brynja issued to Loki's chin caught him off guard. He flexed his jaw experimentally and once assured all was right, chuckled to himself.

"They said you were a fighter," he crooned.

The girl stood on the other side of the bed, fists raised and ready for combat.

"You are darling. Really, you are. But I have matters that need tending to. I am afraid if I leave this tent without claiming you, my men collect those that I discard. It's not a pleasant experience, I promise you."

Chest heaving, Brynja surveyed him. For the first time that night, she was truly scared. The playful look in his eyes had vanished and in its place was something more feral. The King sighed.

"As you wish."

He snapped his fingers and cuffs shot out from the four corners of his bed. They closed around her wrists and ankles, pulling so that she stumbled back onto the mattress. The length of the chains receded, pulling her limbs straight as they positioned her spread eagle on his cot.

"If you insist on thrashing, I will make the chain length uncomfortably short. Do you understand me?"

Her pink lips pursed as she scowled, but she gave a bitter nod of the head.

With a satisfied sigh, Loki crawled back between her legs. The fingers of his one hand still dripped with her saliva, and he resumed tracing the folds with the wet digits.

Brynja inhaled sharply, turning her head to the side so she didn't have to look at him. Loki paid her no mind as he traced between her lips. He probed at her, hissing when his fingers slipped forward into her tight heat as they met a barrier.

"You really _are_ a virgin, then."

When she looked back at him, her expression was somewhere between terrified and enraged. Too scared to concoct a witty response, she nodded.

The King played with her opening, tracing his saliva-slicked finger around the tiny hole and watching it stretch when he shallowly forced a finger back into her.

The Princess' heartbeat pounded in her ears. She thought wine was supposed to dull her senses, not heighten them. She could feel every stroke and swipe of the King's fingers. When she felt him spread her lips she whimpered, trying to sit up to examine exactly what he was up to. The girl gasped and collapsed back onto the bed when she felt his wet, slippery fingertips brush against an area above her entrance.

"Ah. Sensitive, are we?"

She shook her head adamantly, but cried out when he started tracing circles around her clit. Her hips writhed, desperately trying get away, or get closer, she couldn't be sure.

"Stop!"

"No, dearest. It is too late to stop. Sit pretty and I will make you feel good," he crooned.

She was about to point out that she was, in fact, laying and not sitting, when something warm and moist applied pressure to her little pearl. Brynja cried out, her hips rising up off the bed as she thrust against his face. She could feel his damn lips curving into a smile against her sensitive flesh as she struggled.

Frantically she pulled at her bonds, panting as he suckled at her clit. Once again she felt his fingers probe her entrance, and this time, without warning, he roughly thrust them into her with a groan of his own. She cried out, this time in pain, as he began fucking what was her virginal cunt with his hand. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and dribbled into her hair as he used her, all the while his lips secured around her sensitive button.

After several strokes, Loki's fingers hooked against a spot that made her back arch.

"Oh!"

This time he pulled his mouth from her, eager to see the expression on his captive's lovely face as he repeatedly brushed his fingers against that spot.

"No," she whimpered, her head thrashing back and forth as her hips began to buck against his hand. An unfamiliar pressure began to build in her lower belly. Something felt wrong. She needed something, for him to stop? To go faster? She didn't know.

He ignored her pleas, enjoying himself as he teased her. Slowly, her world began to fade away. She could no longer see nor hear, all she could do was feel. Never had she imagined _anything_ could feel so good. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice shrieked at her to fight him, but she disregarded the command. Everything else fell away. He and the lascivious things he was doing to her were the only things that existed. The cold bite of her chains drifted away. Vaguely she was reminded that she was bound when she couldn't move properly to thrust her hips against his hand. They were jolting on their own, she realized absently, her hips bucked and undulated against the King's hand as he fucked her.

The girl began to shake as the coil in her belly became nearly unbearable. All that mattered was the man with his fingers inside her. He was the only one that could soothe the ache she felt.

"Do you want to come, darling?"

She wasn't sure what he meant, but if he was offering relief, she needed it. She was slowly going insane. Her ability to process at this point was pathetic.

Desperately she nodded her head, letting out a pitiful whimper as she did so.

"Are you going to be good for me?"

Again, she nodded, the noise of assent that wrenched from her chest equally distressed as the last.

"Say it, and I will make you explode," he growled. In an army encampment blustering with prisoners, soldiers and servants, all she could hear was his voice.

"I'll be good!"

Upon her declaration, he sealed his mouth back over her clit and relentlessly fucked her with his fingers. She shrieked, back arching off the bed as her hips bucked uncontrollably. Something inside her snapped, and her vision went white. She was vaguely aware of someone screaming, but never did it occur to her that racket was her own voice as wave after wave of pleasure flowed over her.

Eventually her muscles relaxed, leaving her completely boneless on his bed. She heard her captor moving about the tent, but she couldn't even manage to lift her head to look for him.

Loki wet a cloth and cleaned his hand, then knelt at the foot of the bed near her legs and wiped between them. She winced, but didn't fight him.

He considered the breathless, sweaty girl before him. The king had chosen to take her virginity with his hand. He had no desire to watch her face as he penetrated her barrier. Using his fingers was much less intimate and faster to clean if she bled. Clearly, the smarter option.

As Brynja's chains released her, she sat up on an elbow, scrubbing her face as she fought to stay alert. One cuff remained around her ankle, tethered to the bed.

"A—aren't you going to… Are we going to have sex?"

He simply adored the hue of red her cheeks turned when she was embarrassed.

"Oh, no dearest. This," he motioned at her panting body sprawled on his bed, "was unnecessary. It was mostly for my own enjoyment. I like to test the merchandise, as they say. Do you have any idea how _sensitive_ and responsive you are? You will be a dream to train, little peach."

"Y—. You mean this was meaningless? I thought you said if you didn't claim me you'd give me to your men?"

"That was quite true. I would have discarded you. Luckily for you, you proved that you can take instruction like a good girl. You are teachable, trainable. But I need not dirty myself with the likes of you this night."

"Now, as I said before, I have matters that need tending. You may sleep on the floor or in the bed, it matters not to me. Do not bother tampering with the shackle, it is laced with my magic and I will know immediately."

Brynja's jaw didn't drop completely, but her pouty mouth parted in disbelief as he prattled on.

"Now, behave yourself," he ordered as he turned on his heel, heading for the exit. "Oh, and tomorrow, remind me to ask your name," he called carelessly over his shoulder.


	3. Cut the Shit

Needless to say, Brynja didn't sleep well. Loki wandered back into his tents more or less drunk, leered briefly at her delectably naked form in his bed, then plopped down and passed out next to her. She sincerely considered choking him with her chain, but had a bad feeling the Asgardian was even stronger than his lithe body implied.

She spent most of the night tossing and turning. After several hours, Loki flung an arm across her chest. The weight alone held her down, forcing her thrashing to cease. She caught the King looking at her, chuckling against his pillow before going back to sleep. The Princess ground her teeth to keep from sinking them into his arm.

The limb that pinned her in place was cool to the touch. To her irritation, it was a welcome relief compared to the hot, sticky air of the Vanaheim summer. As the chill of his body sank into her, she finally drifted off to sleep.

x

Loki was gone when Brynja woke. She spent the first few hours alone lounging

in bed, nibbling at a fruit platter a servant brought in. Growing bored, she popped a grape in her

mouth, propped herself up and surveyed the room. Amongst the tactical plans and pawns spread across tables, medical equipment stacked in the corner, and weapons leaning against the canvas wall, sat a small bookshelf. Though doubtful her tether would allow her enough slack to reach it, she rose off the bed and padded towards the books. She stretched her arm, reaching for shelf. She was _so_ close. An inch or so away. She got to her knees and crawled forward, stretching her captive foot as far as her chain would let her, then balanced on her knee. To her delight, she was able to rock the shelf and a book fell within her grasp. She snatched it up and returned to the cot.

Several hours of war theory later, Brynja yawned and scrubbed at her face. Loki still hadn't come back. Maybe he was dead? She sighed wistfully. In case he was alive, she crept back over to the bookshelf, using the same maneuver to tip the book back into its home. As she leaned, she heard a pop and fell forward. Whirling around, she realized her cuff had clicked open. The girl held her breath. The King said he'd know if she tampered with it. Did reading count as tampering? She heard steps pounding near the tent and flinched, eyes closed, readying herself for an irate Loki. When no one entered the canvas structure, she peaked an eye open and found herself alone.

Crawling to her feet, Brynja crept near the entrance and cautiously glanced outside. The typical dinner noises of clanging pots and grunting, hungry soldiers filled the air, but beyond that, the camp was quiet. There was no tirading King in earshot.

When she swallowed, her mouth was dry. The girl nibbled her lip. _Everyone was eating. No one was bustling about near her._ Without a second thought, she dropped the book, scrambled through the flap and sprinted, still naked, behind the barracks. Ducking behind tents and carts, she made her way to the edge of camp, which lay flush against a pine forest. She stared at the grove of trees. As a Princess, she was not particularly inclined to primitive survival, but death by beast was preferable to seduction by king.

Toeing the tree line, Brynja looked down and glumly recalled her nudity. The Princess considered sneaking back into camp to find clothes when she heard the clank of armor behind her. She covered herself as she wheeled. A pair of soldiers now stood between Brynja and the camp. When she began to back up, she gasped as she bumped into the cold armor of yet another man blocking path to the forest. Brynja whirled around, eyes flitting nervously between the three.

"Don't be scared," one rumbled. "We won't tell the King we found you escaping."

"You—you won't?"

"No," the man closest to the trees murmured darkly, closing the distance between them. He brushed her hair behind her shoulder and dragged her hands away from her chest. When she stumbled trying to step out of his reach, she ran into yet another solid form behind her. Brynja was trapped between the three of them. Her heart pounded in her ears.

"I belong t—to the King," the Princess stammered. "If you touch me, he'll kill you. I'll

make sure of it." She gave them her most threatening glare. The man with his hands on her chuckled.

"Oh, you won't tell him," he purred, grabbing her hand and forcing her to palm the bulge

in his trousers. "Not after we're through with you. You'll be ours, slut."

She tried to recoil but he held her wrist. In the midst of attempting to wrench herself free, the second man slipped an arm around her from behind and ground lewdly against her while he groped her chest.

"I will!" She panted, terrified. "I'm his new—new whore. He doesn't like other

people touching his things!" Nothing she said had merit, her mouth was simply running in hope that something she said scared them off. With a whimper she squirmed, desperately trying to distance herself from the three.

"Gentlemen." A sharp, pleasant baritone voice broke the silence of the night.

Immediately all three soldiers released the girl and stood at attention. Loki gazed at her from several yards away. He raised a knowing brow but held an arm open to her. Without hesitation she ran to the King, shaking uncontrollably as she buried her face against his chest.

"There, there," he soothed, removing his cloak and draping it over her shoulders. Demeanor changing, he herded her behind his body and Loki moved his hand to the hilt of his sword.

"I should have all three of your heads for what you were about to do to this poor girl," he snarled.

All of the soldiers shook their heads, one taking a step back in fear. The King's eyes flashed with rage.

"W—we were only joking, Your Majesty, we were about to bring her back to you!"

Still shielding Brynja with his body, Loki clasped his hands in front of him, making deadly eye contract with each man.

"I do not take kindly to liars."

Another soldier piped up.

"We're sorry, my King. It was a mistake; we won't even look at her again!"

"No, you will not," Loki agreed. "If this situation repeats itself in any way—If _anyone_ touches my whore, or any of the other women in this camp without consent, it will be your heads I come for. Do you understand? Spread the word."

The King turned and ushered Brynja back towards his tent, leaving the three men heaving sighs of relief and wiping sweat from their brow.

The girl's pace slowed as they neared the entrance, and Loki gave her a gentle but firm push as he followed behind her. Brynja stood as far away from the bed as she could, eying the King warily. She fidgeted with the edges of his cloak, which was still draped over her shoulders, offering her a fraction of modesty. Bravely glancing at him, she began to slide the heavy material from her shoulders when Loki shook his head.

"Keep it, if it calms you."

She nodded gratefully and wrapped it tightly around herself.

The King studied her for a moment, a finger tapping his chin in thought.

"Come."

Leading her, he sank into his chair. Without prompting she began to climb in his lap as she'd done the night before to show her appreciation, but he stopped her. Instead, he sat her at his feet, her legs kicked apart and her core pressed against the toe of his boot.

The poor girl gasped as she settled her weight, her body forced to grind against the blunt toe of the shoe. She blinked in surprised stupor. Maybe he didn't mean to sit her there? Clearly it was a mistake. She rose to her knees to center herself before him when he roughly pushed down on her shoulders. Brynja squeaked. Satisfaction flashed across his face as heat bloomed from her cheeks and spread down her neck.

She didn't even know how to go about berating him. What did one call what he was doing? He wasn't inside her, but she was certain sitting on his boot in such a manner was highly inappropriate. And she didn't like the feeling it coaxed from deep in her belly. It was too similar to what he forced last night.

Gently he crooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted. Apprehensively her gaze rose.

"Do you know what they would have done to you?"

Brynja bit her lip. It was difficult to think with his foot beneath her. Even the slightest shift in her weight caused a throbbing between her legs. She could feel herself growing wet. As to what the soldiers would've done to her, she didn't know specifics, but she knew it would have been bad. Bad in a different way than her night with the King. She shook her head.

"They would have hurt you in ways I never would. Do you understand? You may not be mine by choice, but you will find I am a benevolent master."

Immediately her eyes narrowed.

"A benevolent master ransacking my home and keeping me captive."

With a laugh, he stroked her hair back behind her ear. For the life of her, she couldn't tell if the tenderness in his eyes was genuine or not. Regardless, she shivered when he touched her.

"Ah, not so unaffected, are we?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He considered her, tilting his head to the side. Loki flexed the foot beneath her and she gave a bewildered yelp, fighting to keep herself still.

"Very well." He paused and his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. "Do they not teach gratitude in Vanaheim?"

Brynja glared. She was a Princess. Her deportment was impeccable. However, she was fairly certain none of the hours spent learning decorum were meant to prepare her for enslavement as a prisoner of war.

He continued looking at her expectantly until she answered.

"They do."

"Ah, good. For some it is a difficult concept to understand. We will not have that problem, will we?"

Unable to meet his eyes, expectant and dominant, she shook her head. Something primal begged her to surrender to his game. He was powerful—dangerous, even—and he… excited and challenged her. The man was attractive and confident and he _knew_ he affected her. He stroked her hair once more and she fought not to lean into his touch.

"Good girl. Now, unlace my trousers."

She let out a shaky breath. Of course that's what he wanted. Why else would she be on her knees?

With trembling hands, she tentatively reached forward and plucked at the ties, loosening them. The Princess gasped when she revealed his straining cock, immediately pulling her hands away in fear.

"Relax."

His voice was like honey and the soothing effect it had was grossly unfair.

"Give me your hand."

She extended her palm, placing her hand in his. Loki guided her hand around his length and Brynja's breath left her lungs as he wrapped her smaller hand around the velvet steel of his cock, pumping her hand over him.

The Princess had no experience. Not even sessions of clandestine fumbling in darkened castle alcoves. She was embarrassed that she needed his instruction. Though the… peculiarity before her was new and very, very foreign, the throbbing between her legs grew stronger as she watched his shaft harden beneath her hand. Gradually she grew more confident, and he released her to explore on her own. When a bead of precome collected at the tip of his length, she leaned forward without thinking, her tongue flicking out to collect the moisture.

Brynja jumped when he groaned.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, cheeks blooming in shame.

"Do it again."

She furrowed her brows but nodded, pumping her fist over him and leaning forward to lap at slit. His fingers curled in her hair as his head fell back. A heady sense of power flooded her when he shuddered. The next time she lowered her mouth, she took the mushroomed head between her lips and gave an exploratory suckle.

"That's it, little slut," he growled.

To her dismay, the girl's cunt throbbed at the slur. That wouldn't do. It was demeaning and went against her principles, or so she hazily thought. Reluctantly she pulled her mouth from him.

"Brynja."

Ready to drag her back to his shaft by her hair, Loki paused, brow raised.

"What?"

Nervously she bit her lip.

"Last night… you said to tell you my name. It's Brynja. N—not—."

With a smirk, the King chuckled.

"Not slut?"

She nodded.

"Well then, _Brynja_. Back to work," he pressed on the back of her head, guiding her lips around his cock once more.

Returning to her task, the Princess developed a rhythm, slowly slicking his cock with her mouth and working it deeper and deeper. It was then that Loki flexed his foot, and then again in time as she pumped her mouth over him. She grunted and began to pull back when he held her tightly by her hair.

"Be a good girl, Brynja. Unless you want me to force you? Do you want me to fuck your face your first time?"

She more or less made a noise of dissent. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she continued, doing her best to ignore the surge of wetness she felt between her legs. Loki stroked her hair as she sucked his cock, murmuring debasing words of praise.

When he stopped lifting his toe suddenly, she surprised them both with a whimper of disappointment.

"Oh?"

She couldn't meet his gaze.

"Rock yourself."

As his words sank in, she shook her head, still refusing to look at him, especially since his voice sent heat curling deep into her pelvis.

"Do it. I want to see you come apart with my cock in your mouth."

With soft whine, Brynja began timidly rolling her hips against his boot. She inhaled sharply and he growled.

"I did not say you could stop."

Again she rocked, emitting tiny sighs as her clit rubbed against the leather and metal buckles. Her cheeks glowed with shame and arousal yet she continued to bob up and down his length. The girl's thrusting became almost animalistic; after a minute or so she was so ensconced in sucking his cock that she didn't realize her body automatically took over the scooping of her pelvis.

While Loki remained _mostly_ stoic (there were several instances in which hissed or grabbed her hair especially hard), Brynja was working herself into a frenzy. Focusing on her task at hand relieved some of the humiliation of fucking the King's shoe, which aided in the primal takeover of her brain. She soared higher, almost dropping his cock from her mouth when he began lifting his toe to meet her thrusts.

"Look at me."

She was so far gone that she didn't notice his cock slipping from her lips as she raised her eyes to meet his.

"Come for me," he purred.

Without breaking his gaze, her chin trembled as her hips moved of their own volition. What had been a steady beat turned into a frenzied pumping of her hips as she cried out, her eyes snapping shut and white stars dancing across her eyelids as she came. Eventually her hips slowed, leaving the panting, sweaty girl slumping against the King's thighs.

In a strange, debatably authentic show of affection, he stroked her hair from her face.

Though delirious and still experiencing aftershocks, Brynja leaned forward to take him back in her mouth.

"There's a good whore," he crooned.

Still trying to catch her breath, she glared up at him. With a smirk he roughly pushed her backwards. She landed on her behind, limbs askew as he sat in his chair, boredly fisting his cock.

"I am going to fuck you, now. And you are going to let me, because I saved you from those awful men, did I not?"

Chewing her lip, slowly Brynja nodded.

"After all, as _my_ Vana ambassador you do represent your people. You alone will demonstrate whether or not the Vana understand gratitude." He rose from his seat and descended on her.

"What do you say?"

"Okay," she whispered.

He laughed.

"Oh, no, dear girl. Now I really am starting to doubt your etiquette. As my property, you may call me my King, your Highness, or master. The choice is yours. Feel free to rotate them, find what suits you best. Now, try again."

"Ok—yes, my King."

"There's a good, good girl," he cooed, running his thumb along her jaw. She shivered.

Brynja fought the urge to crawl backwards as he advanced.

"There, there, little peach. The worst is over; we took care of that last night."

Shakily she nodded.

Too nervous to think to do it herself, the King took the liberty of spreading her thighs and settled between them. He chuckled when he found her sopping wet with her own come, which forced her to look away in shame. She would rather he rape her than her body respond to him as it did. The way she fell apart for him so easily was humiliating.

"I've never had a cunt that has belonged to me and me alone. This is going to be exquisite," he murmured against her ear before slamming into her in one stroke.

Still sore and very tight, the poor girl cried out. She shook her head, trying to crawl from beneath him but he grabbed her by her throat and held the Princess fast.

"You are absolutely exquisite, if you were interested to know. Now, hold still and _feel_ , little peach. Do you feel me moving inside you?" He gave her a few shallow thrusts.

Fighting the urge to cry, she nodded.

"Good. Now, pay attention."

Without warning he rammed his hips against hers, knocking her clit in the process and making her squeal.

"Feels good, does it not?"

She angrily shook her head, untrusting of her voice not to betray her.

"I know; from what I hear it is a delicious sensation."

Narrowing his eyes in concentration, the King began withdrawing _slowly_ , stopping when she twitched.

"Ah, the sweetest spot of all," he hummed, giving a few baby thrusts and hitting that sensitive spot with the ridge of his cock over and over.

Brynja gasped and pushed herself up on an elbow. The burn was delicious. Similar to last night… but somehow the yielding steel of his cock felt even better than his fingers. With a whimper she watched him as he continued his rhythm.

When he caught her eyes rolling back he chuckled, prompting her to push at his chest, trying feebly to distance herself from him.

"It is your first time, and I will be lenient. Know it will not always be so," he growled as he pushed her back. Still, her spine bowed against him in rebellion and he was, to his delight, forced to take her wrists in one of his large hands and pin them above her head.

"In the future, there will be punishments. And you _will_ take them. Do you understand me?"

Reluctantly Brynja nodded.

"Yes, my King," she murmured.

With a satisfied smile, Loki resumed his thrusts, forcing her lips to part in pleasure as he hit her _just_ right with each pump of his hips. Her fingers balled into tight little fists in his grasp, prompting him to chuckle as he fucked her.

"So responsive. My beautiful little whore."

Too far gone for ethics, she basked in his praise, her own hips rolling and twisting beneath his. What she was in search of, she was unsure, but she needed to move or she would explode. When he deepened his thrusts, nudging her clit with each pump of his hips, the girl came completely undone. It was different with him on top of her, so much more intimate than when he took her with his fingers. She couldn't hide anything from him in this position. Her back arched in delicious agony as she fell apart beneath him, keening loudly enough for the entire camp to hear, but too far gone to notice. Her soft, tight walls clenched around him rhythmically as she screamed, the world fading away as her King fucked her through her second orgasm of the night.

Satisfied that he had drug every cry, whimper and flutter from his girl, Loki reared back and began thrusting with earnest. She slid back on the carpet, each thrust jarring her enough to move her an inch or so. With a roar he came, his shaft pulsing and coating her inner walls with his come.

After several moments, he pulled out of her with a sigh. He surveyed the dazed girl on the floor of his tent. With a mild eye roll he rose and dipped a cloth in his wash basin and cleaned himself (a job she would assume very, very quickly, but as it was her first time he allowed her the infraction) and knelt to take care of her as well.

She startled when he touched her and he chuckled, entertained by how glazed over his little slut's eyes were from a single fucking. If he had known virgins were so delectable, he'd have enjoyed them until he could no longer. He made a note to pursue more in the near future.

With uncharacteristic kindness he helped her off the floor.

"We should do this again, soon," he said with a smile.

"Wh—what do you mean?"

With a wave of his hand, the three brutish soldiers appeared. She gasped and retreated behind him.

With a chuckle, he snapped his fingers and the men disappeared once more.

"Ho—."

"Did you _really_ think your shackle malfunctioned so quickly? I told you, dear girl, it's protected with my magic. You were only allowed free because I wished it."

"You are a cruel man," she murmured.

Loki laughed, clearly pleased with himself.

"Time for bed, small one. Come," he took her hand. She jerked it away from him.

"I'll sleep on the floor, thank you."

He waved and the cuff shot from the bed and fastened itself around her ankle. With an icy glare she slid to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest. Loki threw her a blanket.

"Have it your way. Goodnight, little peach. You did well tonight."


	4. Mile a Minute

Brynja ran a brush through her long, dark waves as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Under Loki's irritatingly careful eye, the dark smudges beneath her eyes faded and her somewhat gaunt face filled out. Save for the bite marks the King had peppered her skin with, she looked more like her normal self. Several days had passed, during which the King had taken to marking her. Idly she traced a finger along the raised skin of the blemishes, wincing as her fingertip brushed against a particularly sore spot.

Standing with a huff, she tried rearranging her dress to cover the bites, but the piece consisted of so little fabric that each time she moved to cover one bruise, another emerged. Brynja kicked at the chain connected to her ankle. The poor girl could only take so much. She'd had enough of being held captive and abused by a greedy monarch. She wanted to go home. Fists tightening in anger, Brynja whirled, looking for something to throw.

She startled when Loki spoke from the mouth of the tent.

"They become you," he motioned at the marks.

The Princess glared.

"Says the man responsible for them."

The King chuckled, striding towards her.

Brynja pulled nervously at her dress. Her sleeveless gown hung from a gleaming golden collar around her neck, secured around her waist with a matching belt. She wore no shoes. Loki's reasoning was that she was less likely to run away in bare feet. He had gifted her with cuffs to wear around her upper arms; twin golden serpents twisted around her biceps, glittering with emerald-studded eyes.

Her master halted several inches from the girl and spun her so she faced the mirror once more. Standing behind Brynja, his hard chest pressed against her back as he ran his cool hands over her body. He explored the marks he left on her breasts, delighting in the whimpers she made beneath his fingers.

"Are you lonely?"

She frowned, making eye contact with his reflection in the mirror.

"I spend the day cooped up in your tent like a pet. Of course I'm lonely."

Boredly he ran his finger along the ridge of her collarbone.

"I thought perhaps one of your sisters could join us."

Brynja stiffened, her eyes wide in horror. Her voice was no louder than a whisper.

"Which do you have? Where are you keeping her?"

Loki smirked and shook his head.

"Oh, dearest. Do not fret. I simply thought that if you insisted on sulking around camp, I should find us a companion. Does that not sound enjoyable?"

"Please," she breathed. "Please don't."

"But having another girl _would_ take some of the pressure off you, little peach. I could use your sister one night, then you the next. You would have a break."

He cupped her breast with one hand, coaxing her nipple into a firm peak with his thumb and then rolling it between his fingers.

The Princess damned the shudder that trembled through her body as her eyes stung with unfallen tears. She looked at him through the mirror, arms hanging at her sides.

"What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

"I am talking of reuniting you with family members and you question me?" He scoffed. "Is it too much to ask you to feign happiness? You are so _morose_ ," he made a face. "Would you rather I sell you to the slavers? If you think they will treat you better than I, you do not yet know misery, girl."

Solemnly Brynja shook her head.

"Good. Then bring me something to eat."

She twisted angrily from the King's hands and fetched a tray of food from the corner of the room.

"Place it on the bed."

She did as instructed. Once finished, she took a step back, placing as much distance as possible between herself and the cot.

"Undress."

With an icy glare and trembling fingers she unfasted the fabric from her collar and let it slip from her body. Without needing to be told, she crawled onto the bed, pulling her knees tightly to her chest. She hadn't been it since her first night. After his cruel trick she had been too furious to sleep next to him, and over the past few days he'd only taken her on the floor or the chair instead of his cot. She'd forgotten how comfortable it was. She couldn't help that she was a Princess, used to finer things. Never did she picture herself sleeping on the floor.

Loki undressed as well and climbed in next to her, sampling some of the meat and cheese from the tray. His eyes closed and he groaned in satisfaction as he chewed.

"Vanaheim does make the most delicious cheeses, does it not? I believe my men plucked one of your castle chefs from the pens several days ago. I hope they kept him alive, this is scrumptious."

The girl winced but kept quiet.

After a moment, Loki held a single grape out to Brynja, but when she reached to take it from him Loki tutted her, shaking his head.

"No hands."

A moment passed before her eyes widened as she realized what he desired.

"I am not a child nor an animal to handfeed," she hissed. "I eat by myself."

"Mm, how wrong you are. If I want you to be an animal, you will be an animal. Now, eat."

Shaking with rage, she leaned forward and took the fruit between her teeth, then pulled it into her mouth with her tongue.

As she chewed, Loki traced the curve of her breast with a devious smile. Brynja's breath hitched.

"Good girl," he purred. "I can see why enjoying my touch pains you; a girl like you needs to be in charge. My taking away your control destroys you. I can see it."

The Princess tried to convince her facial muscles to go slack. She longed to wear an expressionless mask as she battled against him. Each time he opened his mouth Loki inspired a scowl or a huff in her, and she knew he got a rise out of it. Brynja continuously failed to stow her emotions. Her features were too bright, too expressive to hide from him.

When the King fed her a bit of bread and cheese, a few crumbs remained on his fingertips.

"Clean them," he instructed.

Pursing her lips, dying to defy him, Brynja steeled herself with a sigh and leaned forward. She demurely wrapped her tongue around his thumb, then first and middle finger, her rich, warm eyes staring at him murderously as she licked and sucked his fingers. The King watched her with an appreciative groan.

Loki kept his fingers in her mouth for longer than necessary, a fact they both knew. After several minutes of laving at his hand, the Princess was unable to help herself: her teeth closed around his index finger. It wasn't a full on bite, but she most definitely succeeded in nipping him.

Loki grunted as he pulled his hand from her mouth, examining the damage done to his finger.

Chest rising and falling rapidly with adrenaline, Brynja smirked.

"Now you wear my mark as well."

Without missing a beat, the King reached forward and wound his hand in her hair, earning a shriek from the girl as he tugged her over his lap.

"That was not a wise choice, little peach. I thought you smarter than that. Is there a certain sister you think would suit me best? How old is the youngest?"

The poor girl froze, unable to breathe.

"She's only eleven," she murmured.

Loki sighed, "I have no need for another child in my bed, I already have _one_ ," he growled, jerking her hair.

Brynja bit her lip in a failed attempt to keep silent.

"I am not a child," she grumbled.

The King ignored her. His eyes swept over Brynja's body and he licked his lips. Her hips had grown more plump, as had her arse. Appreciatively he ran his hand down her flank, then skimmed his fingers along the curve of her bottom which was positioned perfectly over his lap.

"You behaved like a child and you will be punished as one."

The girl yelped and her entire body jolted at the first slap. A red handprint bloomed on her rear where he'd struck her. Incredulously she yelled out at him.

"What are you doing!"

She clenched her fists and she tried to bury her face in the bedclothes to muffle her cries, but Loki roughly yanked her towards him, causing her back to arch.

"You will give me every scream, cry and tear I demand from you. Do you understand?"

Finally, she submitted. With a whimper the Princess nodded. Reluctantly she released her lower lip from between her teeth.

"Good girl."

Immediately his words were followed by another squeal as his palm collided with her rear. Her cries grew angrier as he carried on. The girl wriggled over his lap when the strikes began overlapping previous red marks, her eyes welling with tears. Body rigid, Brynja bitterly kicked her feet as a drop of moisture trickled down her cheek. The Princess' whimpers turned in to soft cries and eventually her body relaxed more with each stinging smack. Slowly her mind grew fuzzy and everything but the King faded away. After she was completely boneless, Loki gave her one final slap before rewarding her by smoothing his cool hand over her hot, angry skin.

"Shhhh," he crooned, stroking her hair as she cried softly. "Did you learn your lesson, little one? Will you ever try something like that again?"

"No, your Grace," she whispered.

He groaned.

"Such a pretty, pretty toy." He held his finger before her lips. "Now, give it a kiss."

Obediently, as she no longer had the energy to object, the girl pressed her soft lips against his extended finger. Absorbed in the task before her and the hot throbbing of her rear, she didn't notice when he spread her thighs. Deftly the King dipped a finger between her legs, the corner of his mouth curling into a dark smile at what he found.

"Someone enjoyed their ridicule."

All she could muster was a weak whimper that turned into a low moan as Loki's fingers began stroking along her slit. Brynja was exhausted from her punishment.

"Can you feel how wet you are? Just like a little whore."

When she didn't respond, he stopped, which got her attention. Whining in protest, she tried to turn but he flexed his fingers in her hair.

"Answer the question."

"Yes, my King."

"Better."

He resumed his probing, dipping into her core and using the slick moisture to tease his finger around her clit. The girl shuddered, unconsciously parting her thighs further. Loki chuckled, pulling his other hand from her dark locks to squeeze the glowing red skin of her rump, earning himself a groan from the girl in his lap. She was dazed, so overwhelmed by sensation that she only vaguely registered the King's fingers slipping inside her.

"Ooh," she murmured.

Loki snickered, but Brynja was too far gone to bother being annoyed. Her hips began to rock of their own volition and her hands dug into blanket beneath them as Loki slowly began fucking her with his fingers. They slid easily in and out of the girl and he increased his pace, coaxing sighs and moans from the Princess as her tears quickly dried. Soon, she was bucking against his hand, using her arms to push herself back on his fingers. He chuckled and lifted her hip, rolling her onto her back.

"I want to watch your pretty little face when you come apart for me."

Brynja's cheeks flooded with color, but should couldn't force herself to break his gaze. She swallowed hard as he slipped his fingers back inside her, gently but insistently rubbing his fingertips against that internal bundle of nerves.

The girl's jaw parted slowly and her eyes grew round as he rubbed, heat blooming in her belly. She arched her back, desperately trying to thrust against his hand as he pumped his fingers into her.

"You are so wet I can fucking _hear_ you," he purred.

His fingers drove into her with wet smack after smack as her lips parted into an "O". Still unsure of the chaos that led up to that indescribable feeling of pleasure, her brows raised as he took her higher and higher. With a cry she came for him, her hips rising up off his lap and thrusting wantonly as her hot cunt throbbed and gushed around his fingers. He crooned quiet obscenities to her as she came down, lecherously running his free hand over her belly and breasts.

"Good girl."

The King hauled her to him and sat her on his lap. Teasingly he nuzzled his nose against hers and the poor girl licked her lips, pulling away and looking at his mouth. He crooned at her.

"Do you want a kiss?"

Shyly Brynja nodded.

"You have to earn it. Clean my fingers."

He held them to her mouth, silently testing her obedience.

She bit her lip and eyed his wet fingers. Slowly she took them, swirling her tongue over every inch to clean them properly. The girl looked him in the eye as she worked and she earned a groan from Loki.

Pulling his hand from her mouth, the King cupped her jaw firmly. Anxiously her eyes searched his, afraid he was toying with her. When his mouth slammed against Brynja's, he made it clear there was no joke. Loki nipped at her lips, his teeth knocking hers. His mouth drifted to her jaw and he bit her, adding yet another mark to her collection.

With a growl of her own, Brynja gripped his face in both hands and pulled him away from her jaw, centering him so that his mouth was back on hers. He chuckled against her lips and massaged them with his own. As the kiss deepened, Loki maneuvered her onto her back and settled between her thighs. Her knees fell apart willingly as he continued ravaging her mouth, forcing quiet whimpers from his captive. She was so slick from his earlier attentions that when he entered her, he did so easily in one deep thrust. She groaned, her head falling back against a pillow as he began to drive his hips against hers. It didn't hurt as much anymore, and that tug deep in her tummy came much sooner.

She began meeting him thrust for thrust and he smirked down at her.

"Not so chaste anymore, are you?"

Aside from furiously narrowing her eyes, she gave no response. She struggled to so much as comprehend his words.

When Loki let out a tortured groan, Brynja's velvety walls contracted and the King looked down at her with hooded eyes.

"Do you like pleasing me?"

Immediately the girl shook her head. She was a _prisoner_. Not a common whore. She didn't _please_ people.

The King licked his thumb and slipped his band between them, seeking out her clit. She jerked when he found it and he watched intently as her breath stuttered when he began rubbing it in slow circles.

"Are you sure you don't like pleasing me, little peach?"

Again she shook her head, but this time her eyes were unfocused as she panted beneath him. Increasing the strength of his thrusts, Loki rode her mercilessly and continued assaulting her pearl.

"You are not allowed to come unless I give you permission. If you do, I will bend you over my knee tonight and spank you until you can no longer sit, little girl. Now, tell me you like pleasing me."

Brynja was so torn. Hopelessly, helplessly torn. That feeling in her belly was driving her mad; she _needed_ some kind of relief. She couldn't take anymore torture.

"I do," she choked.

"You do what?"

"Like pleasing you—I like pleasing you," she whimpered, her hips bucking without rhythm.

"Good, good little slut," he praised. "You may come."

With a wail her body tensed, trembling as she came for him once again. She could feel nothing but the explosion deep within her. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth hung open in a very un-princess like fashion as she found herself, to her disgust, thanking him again and again for granting her permission to feel such bliss.

Loki grunted as he fucked her through her orgasm, hips mercilessly slapping against hers as he watched her fall completely to pieces beneath him. As soon as Brynja went boneless beneath him, he reared up on his knees and slipped his arms beneath her legs, holding the girl wide open. He pummeled her, coaxing moans and whimpers from his Princess as he sought his own satisfaction. With a shout his head dropped back and he came, spurting rope after rope of creamy, hot come inside his captive.

Though still panting, Loki was first to recover. He pulled out of her and padded to his wash basin to wet a towel. Lazily he cleaned himself and returned to the bed, dropping the cloth on the girl's stomach.

"Use it, before you make a mess," he grumbled as he pushed her over and slid beneath the sheets.

Chest still heaving as she fought to catch her breath, Brynja felt a stab of shame as the King rolled over, his back to her. Apparently he was done using her for the night. Quietly she cleansed herself and slipped from the bed to deposit the cloth into a pile of Loki's dirty clothes that lay in the corner of the tent.

She chewed her lip as she watched the sleeping King, wringing her hands as she debated whether or not to return to his bed. With a quiet, confused sigh she tiptoed to her pallet beside his cot and lay down, tugging a blanket over herself as she pulled her knees to her chest and tried to sleep.


	5. Raise My Roof

"What?"

Loki stared at his captive while she squirmed, wildly uncomfortable under his gaze. Brow raised, he tilted his head and let his eyes wander over her face, then lowered them to her body where they lingered. He shook his head but didn't redirect his stare. The girl huffed.

 _"What?"_

Loki shrugged.

"You would be a fit match."

She took the bait.

"For what?"

"Marriage."

Brynja felt her face flush with anger.

"Do not speak to me of marriage," she snapped, rising and retreating as far away from her captor as her chained ankle allowed her. "You've ruined me, I'll never wed." She was no longer a virgin, and the entire camp knew a Vana princess was the King's new plaything—he made no effort to conceal her identity. She was damaged goods and an unfit wife.

He smirked, eyes still feasting on her.

"If I wanted you, I would have you."

The girl shook her head. Surely he was toying with her.

"Why in the Nine Realms would you marry me? You don't even _like_ me."

"You are more or less attractive, not terribly boring, and you are part of the royal family. Not a bad set of qualities in a wife. Besides, marriage has nothing to do with liking one another, you know that."

Ignoring the slights, Brynja stuck out her hip and crossed her arms over her chest, silently inviting him to elaborate.

"Do not feign ignorance, pet, it does not suit you."

He was correct. As a Princess, Brynja knew marriage was more about political alliance than love or even partiality. But there was no way in Hel she would allow him to marry her. He was a vile, cruel man and she would go out of her way to make his life miserable if he pressed the issue.

"Marry someone else and let me go home. Find someone you _like._ " Her tone was rather flippant, but her request genuine.

The King stood and stalked towards her, forcing her back up against the canvas wall of his tent. He trailed the tip of his finger around her golden collar, then down the center of her chest between her breasts. He took one final step towards her, forcing the girl to part her legs so he didn't knock her over. With his free hand he tucked an errant curl behind her ear and nuzzled her jaw.

"Oh, darling. Don't be foolish. Regardless of whom I marry, you will remain my plaything."

The King dragged his finger back up her chest and neck, tracing the tip against her soft lips. She fought the urge to bite him yet again.

"You will never leave my bed, little Brynja. You are far too delectable once you finally surrender to me. The only choice I _may_ allow you to have in the matter is if you become my wife or stay my whore. But that will all depend on your behavior."

The girl shuddered against him. She hadn't thought the situation could get any worse. Surely, this must end sometime? She stood up straighter and looked him in the eye, her lip curled in a sneer.

"I'll never be your wife."

"You would rather I take one of your sisters? You would be that callous, that selfish?"

He tutted her as if she were a foolish child. Her expression dropped and her lips parted in disappointed surprise.

"Tell me. Did you truly not anticipate me marrying into your family? This is war, dearest. It must end sometime and with marriage comes peace. A realm destroyed is useless to me, so joining with your family is clearly the answer." He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. "My poor, naïve little girl."

His breath puffed against her cheek and she closed her eyes, turning her face away from him. Her fists lay clenched at her sides in anger.

"Please stop threatening my sisters," she whispered.

If her voice was soft, it made the whole situation seem more surreal. As if he didn't truly have her pinned up against a wall while casually damning her family's future.

"Apparently threatening them is the most effective way to gain your attention, so no, I will not stop until you learn your place."

Shakily she nodded, meeting his gaze once more. She was the eldest and would do whatever it took to keep him from tormenting her beautiful siblings as he tormented her. Even if it meant agreeing to marry. Clearly she would not be the perfect wife, nor he the perfect husband considering how insufferable he was. But she would bear it.

"I'll be better."

The corner of his mouth twitched and he watched her skeptically.

"Will you now?"

The Princess jerked her chin in assent.

"Prove it, little peach."

"How?"

"A good slave does not need to be told how to please her master."

Her mouth went dry.

"I thought you wanted me for a wife," she murmured, looking down.

"I would not object to a wife that served me as a slave. That sounds delightfully fascinating, don't you think?"

He was impossible! Just when he appeared genuine, or at least… neutral, he went and ruined it. Brynja shoved past him and walked towards his chair. She turned and looked at him expectantly, pointing.

"Are you coming?" she gestured at the chair. "Sit."

Loki laughed at her bold attempt at initiative and shook his head as he made his way to her. He plopped unceremoniously in the plush seat, leaving his long legs splayed wide open.

Still standing, the Princess considered her options. She could suck his cock, which, to her disgust, she truly didn't mind. Not that she would _ever_ reveal that to him. It would give him far too much satisfaction. She chewed her lip as she considered her King. Ignoring her pounding heart, she stepped towards him. Pausing before his knees, she motioned for him to bring them together. When he challenged her with a raised brow, she growled.

"Do you want me to please you or not?"

Chuckling, Loki relaxed back and closed his legs. Before she lost her nerve, Brynja pulled her dress up around her thighs and climbed into his lap. As she settled she lost her breath when unintentionally she met his eyes. The girl couldn't break his gaze. Eye contact with him was terrifying; she couldn't hide anything.

Brynja squirmed uncomfortably, earning herself a grunt as she ground against him. Slowly he'd been teaching her the art of pleasure, but she was still understandably shy when it came to sex, especially considering her situation. Deep down she was petrified. _He_ may not feel the intensity, but when he used her she couldn't shut him out. When he was inside her he took everything, more than she willingly gave. Loki forced Brynja to be vulnerable in ways she never imagined. He was a dangerous man to begin with. Putting herself in his hands was unsettling, to say the least. The Princess wasn't sure if he gave anything back, she had no other experience to compare to. She was beginning to identify a look that only crossed his features when buried deep inside her, one that resembled something like contentment. It was always gone the moment he left her warmth.

Earning the moment his eyes softened and his brow relaxed was the only way she could fight back against the King. Determined to coax more from him than he'd given her before, she carefully gripped his shoulders and placed her knees on either side of his legs. Brynja lowered her core and gave an experimental scoop of her hips, earning a grunt from Loki. She continued slowly rolling her hips against his emerging erection, relishing in the noises he tried to subdue. The girl couldn't help when the corner of her mouth twitched upwards in a triumphant smirk. The King narrowed his eyes at her.

Goosebumps erupted on her arms and her smile faltered as she began to lose herself in his intense stare. She was forced to look away, eyes flicking down to his chest. The Princess could feel the rumble in his chest as he chuckled. He surprised her when his lips grazed her jaw, causing her to gasp and pull away with a glare.

"You're interrupting."

Grumpily she tried to push him back with a hand on his chest.

"It is my show," he growled, making her shiver when he yanked her arm off of him and leaned forward to suck her lobe into his mouth.

The poor girl's core throbbed. This was not part of the plan. He was usurping her teasing. Everything had been under such control, and now he was going to ruin it by distracting her.

"But I can't think when you do that," she whispered.

The Princess could feel him grin against her skin.

"Giving up already, are we? You would rather be my whore than my wife, then?"

With a growl of her own she roughly thrust her hips, earning a moan from the King.

He persevered through her teasing and continued challenging her, sucking marks on her neck until she whimpered and running his hands along her body. Valiantly she continued grinding herself against his hardening cock, but her attentions admittedly impacted both of them and Loki watched in satisfaction as his girl's eyes glazed over. Between the hardening length in his trousers that she insisted on rubbing herself against and his teasing, confusing kisses, she was quickly growing powerless.

When the King could no longer keep his own hips still, he held the Princess to him and rose, walking them both to the bed. Unable to stop herself, Brynja clung to his shoulders and involuntarily wrapped her legs around his waist. Once she realized what she'd done, she tried to wriggle free but he tossed her on the bed. With a wave of his hand her dress disappeared, leaving her nude save for the golden collar and cuffs around her arms.

Brynja fought to keep still as he surveyed her. Loki opted to undress himself the old fashioned way, meticulously unlacing and folding his clothing while his eyes remained glued on her.

"What you did was not… bad," he mused, crawling onto the bed. "But you have much to learn if you want a place in my marriage bed."

The Princess was too light headed to take offense, her chest rose and fell rapidly as she desperately attempted to catch her breath. Nonchalantly Loki maneuvered her legs apart. He took a finger and clinically ran it between her folds, humming in satisfaction when he found her embarrassingly wet. The King dipped his finger inside her, drawing a gasp from the girl and then brought it to her lips.

"Suck."

Glaring, she obeyed, her eyes glittering with anger.

When he finally pulled his finger from her mouth, she reacted without thinking.

"It's not because of you," she blurted.

"Your arousal?" He arched an elegant brow.

She nodded her head.

"You mean to say this is not a result of pleasing me, hmm? What in the world could have made you this wet?"

Frantically Brynja searched for a feasible lie.

"I was fantasizing about one of the soldiers I saw in camp."

Quelling a growl, Loki loomed over her and drug his cock against her slit, spreading the copious amount of moisture about her folds. Slowly he slid inside of her, making her eyes roll back and her breath stutter.

"Does your soldier make you feel like this in your dreams, my little slut?"

"Even better," she choked. "He's a very skilled lover."

Loki gave an aggressive thrust, coaxing a moan from his captive.

"You can dream day and night; he will never make you scream like I will."

Defiantly Brynja shook her head back and forth, brows furrowing as she fought the coiling pressure in her lower belly. Loki chuckled and began fucking her in earnest. Truly, the girl tried to keep herself quiet, but when Loki began thrusting especially hard she was unable to keep her moans subdued.

"You will never fuck another man," the King groaned into her ear. "And soon you will _fantasize_ only of my hands on your luscious body because you will accept that you only react this way for me. With a soldier you would be a simpering maid. With me, you are a wanton slut that cannot seem to control herself."

Brynja cried out in opposition to his words, but both felt the way her tight, velvety walls clenched around his shaft as he spoke.

His thrusts grew in strength and soon the sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout his tent. When he spoke again, Brynja lost control of the whimper that slipped past her lips.

"You need this, little girl," he soothed into her ear. "You need to fight and struggle and challenge me, because you are afraid to admit what you need from me once I'm between your legs." Loki licked a stripe along her neck, drawing a harsh breath from his captive.

"No," she whimpered, shaking her head as the spring in her belly tightened unbearably.

"Yes," he growled against her ear, slamming into the poor princess at a brutal pace.

Her plan had completely backfired. He wasn't the exposed one, she was. Brynja forgot what it felt like when he made her fall apart, that delirious and overwhelming pleasure that became her entire existence as she came for him.

With a yell she arched against the King, desperately rubbing herself against him as he charmed the poor girl into coming. Despite his weight her back bowed off the bed, golden skin glistening with sweat as she trembled and cried out beneath him. With her eyes snapped shut she was unable to see the hungry expression that crossed Loki's face, and the self-satisfaction that made itself known in the form of a cocky smile.

As Loki continued thrusting into her roughly, and it was difficult to recover from her orgasm, but Brynja persevered. She forced herself to open her eyes so she could watch his face as he worked himself towards culmination. A smirk of her own graced her lips when the King hissed, his head falling back as his face contorted in pleasure. With a deep growl he came, his hips hammering against the girl's mercilessly as he pumped her full of his seed. Eventually his thrusts slowed and his face relaxed. The Princess' stomach fluttered as she caught a glimpse of that rare look of contentment flash across Loki's face, his brows relaxing and his eyes softening as they refocused on her. Her cheeks flushed as he took in her naked, panting body. When he leaned forward on his elbows, caging her face so she was forced to look at him, she shuddered and closed her eyes.

"Open," he rumbled.

With a whimper, Brynja obeyed. Her cognac colored eyes studied his green ones, waiting for his moment of triumph. An unfamiliar expression danced across his face instead, causing him to look away and pull out of her.

"Clean us," he ordered, flopping onto his back.

With a feminine grunt Brynja forced herself up, fetched a cloth and wet it. She tended to both of them, gingerly wiping away evidence of their tryst. When she made to return to her palette, Loki spoke.

"You are not finished pleasing me for the night, little peach. You will sleep in the bed for me to use as I want."

Chewing her lip, the Princess reluctantly crawled onto the mattress. Sleeping next to him only added to her vulnerability. This was not going according to plan.


	6. Off Limits

With a sigh, Brynja cleaned and returned one of Loki's throwing blades to its rightful place on his armor. Idly she ran her hand over a leather panel, tracing the edges that lined up against the protective metal of his suit.

Brynja was making a grand effort to serve her King. She was determined that none of her sisters would wed the man. If it meant marrying him herself, so be it, and if he wanted a slave wife, she'd be the best damn slave wife the Nine Realms had ever seen.

It took her several weeks to learn from the other servants, but eventually she could competently (for the most part) clean his clothes, polish his armor, draw his baths and even tend the fire in his quarters. However, she wasn't permitted to mend his clothing. Apparently her sewing was too sloppy.

To her humiliation, she still had attendants of her own that bathed and dressed her, despite the entire camp knowing she could now manage to do so on her own. It didn't help that they'd also seen her in service to the King. Loki enjoyed emphasizing her position as Princess in camp while she was forced to lower herself to serve him at the same time. In his temporary establishment she was royalty to most, but slave only to him.

Abandoning the half cleaned armor (she _was_ a princess, after all. She didn't have the patience or desire to clean the whole damn thing in one sitting), she called for her servants to be bathed and dressed for the night.

x

Brynja was moderately enjoying yet another book on battle tactics, sprawled on his freshly made bed when he sauntered into his tent with a goblet of wine in hand.

"We are leaving in the morning."

Her heart pounded as she studied him. Leaving? For her castle, were they going to attack? What if her family was still there? Would he hurt them?

"To my home, then?"

"Yes, your new home. I am taking you to the palace in Asgard."

Her stomach sank. She couldn't decide which was worse: Staying in Vanaheim where she was an active captive or leaving her family behind and traveling to a strange realm where she was to marry a megalomaniac king.

"What will happen to my family once we leave?"

"In exchange for the safety of your sisters, your father proclaimed fealty."

The girl let out a breath of relief until she realized her safety had gone unmentioned.

"And what about my wellbeing?"

"Ah, I am afraid I could not promise him that," Loki remarked with false woe.

He sidled up to her, prompting Brynja to sit up nervously on the bed.

"Your wellbeing has everything to do with your behavior, not your family's obedience. It's dependent solely on yours," the King hummed, taking the book from her hands.

He tossed it so it landed on the floor with a thump near the bookshelf. Loki turned back to the Princess, who had stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest.

"Now, now, dearest."

He set his wine down on the makeshift nightstand.

"Show me your obedience and perhaps I will allow them to visit," he purred.

Reluctantly she lowered her arms, allowing him to unfasten her dress so that it pooled around her waist. Loki tested the weight of her breast in one hand, using his thumb to coax her nipple to a peak. Brynja bit her lip but couldn't hold back the pleasured sighs that slipped from her.

"So responsive," he remarked, moving his attentions to her other breast. "You have no idea how much I value that in a toy."

"I'm not a plaything," the hissed through clenched teeth.

The King frowned and trailed his hand from her chest to her neck and gave an experimental squeeze. Though she knew he easily overpowered her, the girl pulled uncomfortably at his wrist, whining as he tightened his grip. He used his free hand to stroke her hair from her face and leaned down so his lips brushed against her ear.

"You insist on forcing me to remind you of your place. This will stop. I have more important matters to address than training you to be an obedient wife. That is a chore I will leave to my men if you cannot control yourself, little girl."

He lessened his grip around her neck and she greedily sucked in air. Loki continued to speak.

"I am not an honorable man. The only thing stopping me from attacking your home is the fact that I'm _trying_ to keep your damned family alive for your sake, but you're making it very difficult to maintain the desire to do so."

Brynja gasped softly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know I'm stubborn, I'll try harder."

She paused for a minute, her eyes searching his. On a whim, the Princess shyly grasped the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. Immediately his hand tightened around her throat, constricting her airway and she whimpered. After a beat, when he was satisfied that the girl wasn't going to try anything, he released his hold on her neck and buried a hand in her hair. He nipped at her lower lip which drew a whine from the Princess but she refused to pull away from him. She had to prove she could endure his treatment. Swallowing hard, Brynja made an executive decision. Timidly she pulled at his shirt, causing him to chuckle as he pulled it over his head.

Captive slave-bride or no, she eyed his hard, sculpted chest and found herself swooning. Yes, she was there against her will, and Loki left a lot to be desired in the personality department, but he was undeniably attractive. His vibrant green eyes flashed with intelligence and saw right through her obligatory protests and tantrums and pinned her in place under his gaze. His black hair was silky in her fingers and though she was tall, he towered over her by more than a foot. And as much as she hated to admit it, when he held her in those ridiculously long, strong arms of his, she did feel a degree of security. If he weren't such an arse, he'd be easy to like. Kind of.

He replaced his lips on hers and she gave a quiet whimper, rising to her knees to reach him better. Too engrossed in the kiss to open her eyes, she trailed a warm hand down his abdomen, fumbling blindly at his trousers. She felt him smile against her mouth as Loki batted her hands away. He quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothing and suddenly his fingers were coaxing her legs apart. She spread them without a second thought, despite something in the back of her mind yelling at her that she should be ashamed of how wet he was about to find her.

His hand grazed her slit and she gasped, spreading her knees even further and thrusting against his fingers. Quite pleased, the King grunted, slipping his fingertips between her folds and groaning against her mouth when he discovered the slickness that dripped from her.

Briefly, Loki pulled away from her mouth and stared at her. Brynja licked her swollen lips unconsciously and returned his gaze, cheeks heating with embarrassment as she realized she had literally just thrown herself at the man.

A diabolical grin crept across his lips.

"You are learning," he purred.

The girl's retort died on her lips as he sealed his mouth against hers. Grabbing the back of a thigh in one hand and her waist with the other he slid her forward and down, laying the Princess on her back with her knees dangling over the edge of the bed. The King leaned over and bracketed his arms on either side of her face.

"I do like your fire, little Brynja, but I must admit you submit _so well_ when you forget your need to fight. And when I touch you, you forget so easily," he crooned.

With a growl she half-heartedly swung a foot at him which is easily caught. The girl winced as he pushed her leg up, pressing the top of her thigh against her fluttering belly and extending her knee above her head. Loki gave her muscles a minute to adjust to the stretch of the position, which rendered her almost completely immobile.

"I do love catching you when you struggle. When you fight and I pin you it's like catching a spider in her own web," he soothed as his free hand made its way back down to her pussy.

Brynja's hiss turned into a moan as he rubbed small circles around her clit. Her hips tried to arch up off the bed, earning her a chuckle from the man debasing her as he continued teasing the girl.

"It is okay," he soothed. "I know what you need. I know you need to wrestle with your morals before you can finally give in to me. Soon I will unlearn you of that habit, and all I will have to do is look at you and you will come apart for me, little girl."

"I can't breathe. Your ego is taking up the entire room," Brynja grunted in between whimpers.

Loki let out a genuine laugh and plunged two fingers inside his conquest, forcing her to cry out. Gently, but insistently, he probed her, his fingertips brushing against the illusive bundle of nerves inside her cunt. The Princess' head whipped back and forth as she keened, so close to exploding that white stars danced across her vision.

And then he stopped. Casually he gave three more thrusts before pulling his fingers from her and taking them in his mouth. Staring at her, he moaned as he tasted the evidence of her arousal. He dipped a finger back inside her and withdrew it, reaching upwards to trace her own juices along her lips. Loki leaned over her, his face inches from hers.

"This isn't an accident, little peach," he casually thumbed her lip. "This," he held out his wet fingers for her to see, "is how a woman's body responds when she _needs_ to be fucked. I know you feel that deep throbbing; I have seen you squirming and pressing your thighs together in my presence. Those are all telltale signs I have correctly put you in your place, that your body responds to me, belongs to me."

He pushed his finger past her lips.

"Suck."

She glared, mostly because he stopped fucking her with his hand rather than because of what he demanded, but she obediently took his finger in her mouth and hollowed her cheeks. Loki groaned, staring at her with pupils blown black with lust.

"Good girl," he murmured. The King held his fingers in her mouth, testing her to see if she'd bite him again. Though her eyes flashed with the desire to nip, she abstained. He removed them from her mouth leaned forward, running his tongue along her lower lip and lapping away any trace of her slick from her mouth. Brynja moaned at the sensation, lifting her head to hungrily press her lips against Loki's.

He let her relax from her position and swung her knees onto the bed, crawling atop her, his cock pressing insistently against her thigh as he plundered her mouth, leaving her completely breathless.

"Please," she whined.

He raised an ebony brow and feigned ignorance.

"Please?"

 _"Please,"_ she growled.

With a chuckle Loki dragged the weeping head of his cock against her slit, smirking as her eyes fluttered shut and she trembled beneath him. Brynja ignored him; she simply didn't have the available brain capacity to reprimand him for being impolite. Instead, she draped a leg over his side, opening herself to him in offering. Loki grunted in appreciation and slowly slid inside her, groaning as he pushed his throbbing length inside her, drawing a gasp from his captive.

"You are sublime when you submit," he cooed against her lips.

She whimpered, unable to keep her cunt from contracting at his praise.

"Such a good, good little whore."

Crossly she pushed up off the bed, attempting to fuck him back since he insisted on taking his time. Smiling against her mouth he gently bit at her lower lip and began thrusting his hips. Brynja was forced to pull her mouth from his, turning her face to the side so she could moan freely without having to look at his smug expression. He gripped her chin and jerked her face so she was looking at him once more.

"No," he hissed. "Your moans belong to me."

Too far gone to argue properly, she gave a curt nod and willed herself to relax.

"My good little Brynja."

The Princess blushed and bit her lip, looking away. Regardless of the shame she felt for enjoying his approval, she hooked her other leg around his middle, wantonly digging her heels into his backside. He groaned and quickened his pace, making them both pant in an attempt to catch their breath. She tilted her hips and keened as he hit her just right, his pelvis grinding against her clit with each pump of his hips. Pure heat shot from her core up her spine as the coil in her belly tightened unbearably, the poor girl let out a whimper and greedily thrust her hips against his.

"Come for me," he commanded through clenched teeth.

With a wail she obeyed, coming completely apart beneath her King. Her slick walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him, begging for him to find completion in her body as well. With a roar Loki came, flooding her dripping pussy with his come. Eager to feel his conquest's trembling aftershocks, he stayed in her even as he grew soft, languidly fucking his seed deeper into the exhausted girl. Eventually he pulled out, flopping on his back and scrubbing his face. She turned on her side, staring intently at him.

"You are improving," he said with a leer.

She rolled her eyes and dug the sheets out from beneath them, sleepily covering her bare form and grumbling about how it was a good thing they were departing in the morning because she'd have to change what _were_ fresh, clean sheets anyway.

x

The next morning, the troops left for Asgard. Hundreds of armed men and attendants swarmed the road as they marched behind their King on the way to the Bifrost. To her disgust, said King made Brynja share his horse. He situated her on the front of the saddle, his long arms easily wrapped around her waist to hold the reins. She grumbled for the first mile, but when Loki moved the reins to one hand and began tracing his fingers over her nipples she promptly shut her mouth. Eventually the steady gait of the horse relaxed her and she found herself fighting heavy eyelids and losing. To both of their surprise she let her head rest back against his shoulder as she drifted off, sleep deprived from his waking her twice more in the night.

The company stopped for the evening several miles from the Rainbow Bridge. Brynja fought her way through setting up the frame of Loki's tent, but when it came to the canvas she surrendered and sought out her own servants for help. Once erected, she wrestled his cot into the pavilion, clumsily made the bed and went in search of something to eat.

x

Brynja slipped from Loki's tents and skittered to an open table in the dining area where she had bribed a servant to give her a soldier's mean of stew and bread. She couldn't stand eating every course in the confines of her King's damn living quarters.

A heavily armored general approached her as she lifted a spoonful of broth to her mouth and took a seat far too close. She studied him briefly before dipping her spoon back into her soup and raising it to her lips. She blew gently, cooling the liquid before turning to him.

"Shoo."

He laughed at her audacity and moved closer until their thighs were touching. Boldly he reached forward and cupped her breast, making her bristle in anger. Brynja slapped his hand away.

"At least have the decency to wait until I've finished," she snapped.

"Oh no, my girl. I won't be waiting. I want to taste what belongs to the King."

With a chuckle he wrapped his fingers around her bicep and pulled the girl to her feet. In her surprise, the spoon went flying. He whipped her around so her back was to his front and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply.

"It's been far too long since I've had a woman in my bed," he groaned against her ear.

Brynja's stomach fluttered. Something was off. She was used to Loki's daily antics, his cruel tricks and treatment, but this was abnormal. This was wrong. The Princess tried to squirm from his grasp, but his fingers bit into the skin of her arm that much harder. To her dismay, she uttered a quiet whimper as she made an effort to yank herself out of his grip. She hated giving him the aural satisfaction of hearing her in distress. The brute began dragging her to a foreign tent which was even more unsettling.

"Where are we going? Can't we at least go to your tent if you're going to play this game?"

Despite his uncomfortably tight grip, she attempted once again to tug her arm free. Angrily he threw her against a canvas wall, moving his grip from her arm to her throat.

"You're not going to scream, you're not going to run. You're going to fucking take my cock like the good little whore you are—."

"Unhand her. _Now_."

Though irritated that Loki's voice had such a soothing effect on her, Brynja's tensed shoulders relaxed at the sound of the King's command.

"My King, it has been so long since I've had a woman and she is in your bed every night. I've fought all these months for you, the least you can do is grant me a night with your slut."

"Perhaps you didn't hear me. Release her before I cause you irreparable bodily harm," Loki hissed.

The man's brows raised in concern and he let Brynja go with a shove toward her master. With a cry the poor girl stumbled forward into Loki's arms. The King was too preoccupied with his conquest to bother reprimanding the escaping soldier.

"Are you hurt?"

"Of course not. You'd never render me inoperable."

Loki nodded distractedly, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her several yards and into his tent. In a frenzy he pulled her dress from her body, ignoring her indignant protests. When she was naked, aside from her golden jewelry, he immediately began running his hands over her limbs and middle, checking for bruises and cuts. She swore she could hear him snarl when he examined her upper arm and found fingerprint marks from where the man had grabbed her.

The King's hands traced over her flank and thigh before moving rest on her mons.

"Did he force you?"

Brynja shivered, blinking dumbly down at him.

"What, he wasn't one of yours?"

She could tell by the nasty glare he shot at her that the crude general hadn't been the product of Loki's magic. She squirmed as her mouth went dry. She glanced down at him, her cheeks glowing.

"Thank you."

His face was still flushed with anger, but he nodded. Loki continued checking her over for injuries, muttering to himself about various forms of punishment he'd like to subject the soldier to. Brynja squirmed, uncomfortable with all of his attention. It was easier when he was dismissive. She wasn't sure how she felt about his fawning over body.

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

He glared up at her from his crouching position.

"You are _mine_. Had he harmed you more than he did, his head would be on a pike outside my tent, advertising to the rest of the troops what happens when my things are touched."

Pursing her lips, Brynja nodded as her stomach did a flip-flop. It almost sounded as if he cared, but she knew he was just being possessive. She wriggled out of his grip and went to his bed, fussing with pillows and smoothing imaginary wrinkles from the sheets. The Princess froze when she felt his hard body pressed against her back.

"You seem ungrateful. Would you rather I have left you to him? I'm sure he is still near. Shall I fetch him?"

With a whimper Brynja shook her head and made an attempt to turn. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and held her still. Silently he guided her knee onto the mattress and bent her over, slipping a finger between her folds to test her readiness. He grunted when he found her slick with want. He growled in anger.

"What is this from? Did you want him?"

Adamantly the girl shook her head.

"Why are you aroused?"

"You were touching me," she whispered, referring to his beyond thorough examination of her body.

Loki paused as he processed her confession, then chuckled, his laughter rumbling deep in his chest.

"Your body knows its owner," he purred.

Halfheartedly she tried to push back against him, unclear as to her final goal aside from the fact that she wanted to make it slightly more difficult for him to fuck her. He simply guided her forward, his hand still wrapped in her waist length waves, until she was forced to turn her face and lay against the mattress with her rear in the air. She heard him fumble with his armor as he removed several pieces, dropping them to the ground as he freed himself.

Easily he pushed inside her, both moaning at the contact.

"Remember," he panted as he began to thrust, "this cunt belongs to me."

With a whimper, she nodded as he thrust roughly against her backside. She was certain he was fucking her with enough force that someone in the camp could hear skin slapping on skin. Brynja arched her back, gasping as he slid even deeper inside her slick warmth.

"Every man in this camp wants you," he growled in her ear. "But they'll never have you. _You_ belong to me," he emphasized with an especially brutal thrust. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," the Princess breathed, incapable of forming a response that consisted of more than a single word.

Without warning his hand snaked around her waist and he searched for her tender clit, rubbing ruthless circles around the little pearl until she was screaming for the entire camp to hear. With a cry she came, collapsing bonelessly against the bed as he sought completion. With several rough pumps of his hips Loki groaned, releasing his load deep inside her cunt.

As he pulled out, Brynja teetered on her feet, grabbing the bed to keep from falling when Loki scooped her up and placed her on the mattress. He, to her surprise, cleaned them both before settling in bed spooned against her with his hand possessively cupping her breast. Unaccustomed to sleeping so close to him she wiggled for a bit, finally finding a comfortable spot and slipping off to sleep curled against him.


	7. Follow Me

"It's almost time to leave," a smooth baritone voice crooned in her ear.

The sun was still down and the girl was not pleased about being woken so early. Brynja cracked an eye open to find Loki standing next to her supine form, already half dressed. She assumed he was waiting on her to aid him in donning his armor. Truly she was surprised he continued demanding that she dress him because unfortunately for both of them, she was not a morning person. The day previous she received a short spanking for not paying attention while fastening his protective gear and accidentally pinching him. Oops.

Instead of immediately hauling her from the warm nest of covers, Loki began to slowly pull the sheet down her body, exposing her nude form inch by inch. He leaned over, his face next to hers as she gazed up at him with uncertainty. He smirked.

Closing the distance between them, Loki placed a gentle kiss at one corner of her mouth, then the other. He pressed his lips to her nose, to each eyelid and brow, as well as her cheeks. The girl's breath stuttered in astonishment as he treated her with such tenderness. When she spoke, it was in a whisper.

"What are you doing?"

Loki ignored her question and continued peeling the covers from her body. She shivered, first with cold, then with desire as Loki traced her collarbone, then dragged his finger to her breast where he casually circled her nipple with a fingertip. Brynja gasped as it immediately stiffened beneath his attentions, her cheeks flaming.

"Still ashamed of how your body reacts to me, are you?"

It was her turn to ignore him with a scowl, which, of course, made him chuckle. He paid her other nipple the same attention, then took both between his fingers and rolled them, urging a quiet moan from the girl.

"Keep fighting, little Brynja. It makes your surrender that much sweeter," he murmured against her flesh as his mouth enveloped one of her peaked buds.

Unable to help herself she groaned, clutching his head to her breast as he suckled and nipped. Her lower body squirmed as that deep throb began to pulse in her lower belly.

"Don't," she moaned.

She was rewarded with the rumble of his laughter vibrating against her flesh. The Princess dug her fingers into his hair with the intention of yanking him away, but when his tongue darted out against her nipple she found herself distracted by her own whimper, and instead held him to her.

Her stomach twisted with both dread and arousal as she felt his fingers slip between her thighs. Her traitorous body parted her legs for her King as he released her nipple and gripped her chin with a free hand. The Princess glared at him and he nuzzled her cheek.

"Good girl," he crooned against her hair.

Gingerly he probed her, running a finger along the seam of her folds before dipping inside her. The King grinned when the tips of his fingers ran against her very slippery opening and eagerly he plunged two inside her.

He didn't pull his face away from hers as he spoke, instead he murmured against her cheek as a lover would whisper words of affection.

"What's this?"

"It's an automatic physical reaction. Don't let it go to your hea—Ooh!"

He cut short her explanation when he curled his two fingers within her, seeking out the textured bundle of nerves hidden inside. Gently he caressed her with a soft flex of his fingers, grinning as he forced her hips up off the bed

Both startled at a voice from outside the canvas structure.

"My King?"

Loki grunted in response, choosing that point in time to fix his mouth around her other nipple.

"A word, my King?"

"I am busy," he growled against her skin.

"It's an important matter, your Highness."

With a huff, he pulled away, but kept his fingers buried inside her.

"Then enter. You will speak to me here."

The soldier lifted the tent flap but froze at the scene before him.

"My work cannot go interrupted, the Princess Brynja will never learn obedience if I am too soft," Loki explained over his shoulder.

He turned back to his captive.

"I do not mind his presence, darling, do you?"

Complete and utter horror rendered the Vana speechless. He continued stroking her with her fingers, coaxing a tortured whine from the girl. The soldier at the mouth of the tent cleared his throat awkwardly.

Once she got ahold of herself, Brynja kicked furiously at Loki, prompting him to lean forward to catch her ankle. As Loki chased her foot with a hand, the man sent to "summon" Loki, momentarily flummoxed by the scene before him, drew and knocked an arrow dripping with a noxious green slime and let loose. The King's last minute movement to catch the Princess' foot caused the arrow to miss his heart by centimeters but it pierced his upper body.

As the assassin pulled another dripping arrow from his quiver, Loki roared in anger, moving fluidly as he materialized a throwing knife and snapped his wrist, sending the dagger zipping through the air so quickly it almost wasn't visible. It landed with a wet noise in the strange man's throat and he gurgled as he fell to his knees, then collapsed completely as blood wept from the wound.

Loki staggered, looking down in shock at the arrow protruding from his chest. When he wrapped a hand around the shaft and began to pull, Brynja yelped.

"Stop that! I'll fetch a healer."

Loki glanced dubiously at her. She rose but he clumsily grabbed her arm as she went to pass him, shaking his head. He looked as if he wanted to say something but the poison had entered his bloodstream and delirium was quickly setting in.

"Let me go, you goon. I'm coming back!"

Still he held her fast, letting go only when she herded the unsteady man into a chair and forced him to sit. She snatched Loki's robe from the ground, quickly donning it as she dashed to the opening of the tent, leaping over the body of the assassin. Moments later she returned with a sleepy healer who was clutching her supplies to her chest. The woman shook her head in fear, attempting to back away from the seated King.

"But, I don't know what the poison is! I could make him worse!"

Brynja narrowed her eyes and advanced upon the woman.

"You would deny your king service in his time of need?"

The healer swallowed hard and glanced at the ailing man who was now leaning heavily on the arm of the chair to stay upright.

"I'll do what I can," murmured the healer.

"You will treat him properly, as you always have. I have complete faith in you," Brynja encouraged despite her stomach rolling with uncertainty.

It was a half-lie. She was the most experienced medicine woman in Loki's employ and had tended many of his wounds from past battles, but she seemed unfamiliar with the toxin that spread through her King's body which terrified the girl. She may not have an affinity for the King, but his reign kept her family alive and she was unwilling to risk the chance that someone even worse could seize power should Loki die.

Brynja took a step towards the woman with uncertainty. She was examining the wound, tracing her fingers over the puckered skin around the arrow and making the King flinch. Brynja wrung her hands.

"Can I help?"

The healer glanced up, blowing hair from her face as she studied the noblewoman. She gave a curt nod.

"Hold him still, I have to remove the arrow."

Grimacing internally, Brynja did as she was told, steadying the King's shoulders as the healer quietly counted to three, then snapped the off the arrowhead, and quickly pulled the shaft through on the other side, causing Loki to howl in pain.

The older woman hissed as she examined the wound site. The flesh immediately surrounding the arrow had already begun to die.

"This poison is neither of Asgard nor Vanaheim," the healer determined quietly.

Brynja chewed her thumbnail as she nodded. Nervously she glanced at her King. Loki had broken out in a cold sweat.

"Fetch him something cool for his head."

The Princess did as she was told, scurrying to his washbasin and wetting a towel. Frowning in concern as she returned, she gently wiped his face and brow with the cool cloth. She dabbed at his neck with the towel, wiping away perspiration.

He couldn't die. He just couldn't.

x

The healer never left his side, though Brynja was forced to at midday. The girl had to act. The caravan was supposed to have departed hours ago. She couldn't risk his men seeing him in such a weakened state if they came looking. Loki had seized power during a coup, and she feared someone may use the same tactic while the King lay weakened.

After summoning her ladies to dress her in her most modest gown, the girl steeled herself at the mouth of the tent before lifting the flap and exiting. When she entered the first general's tent to summon him, a blonde man with blue eyes stared at her cautiously from within.

"You're the Princess," he stated.

She nodded

"What is a Princess doing in a general's quarters?"

Realizing her mistake, surely Loki wouldn't want her alone with another man, Brynja's face bloomed with color.

"I—I realize this is inappropriate, I apologize. Would you speak with me outside?"

"The King would have my head if he knew you were in here. Out!"

He chased her from his tent and backed her against Loki's.

"What is going on?"

"The King wants to see you," she blurted. She was planning to meet with the generals herself. She didn't trust that another soldier could lie properly.

He raised a brow and narrowed his eyes.

"Why?"

"I am not required to give a reason, Sir. The King merely requested an audience."

He studied her for a moment and she gripped her hands behind her back, hoping he couldn't see her white knuckles.

"It is an urgent matter, I do not have time to explain frivolities," she snapped, growing concerned.

"I will see him myself."

"No!"

The blonde raised a brow.

She cleared her throat.

"I mean, no. He is not well."

"And why isn't a fellow soldier relaying the news?"

Brynja's jaw worked up and down but no sound left her mouth.

The general easily pushed the girl out of his way and entered Loki's quarters.

Brynja tore after him, a whimper of distress on her lips.

The blonde man stood still several feet inside the tent, staring solemnly at the King. Brynja and the healer had coaxed him to his bed, on which he now lay, frighteningly pale. The woman was at his side, changing the bandage on his chest. The general cleared his throat.

"I ask again, what happened to him?"

"Nothing," whispered Brynja, her eyes wide with fear. What if she had led another usurper straight to her King?

"Speak of no one to his," the man growled.

Brynja's eyes searched his as he rubbed his chin in thought.

"The King wishes to extend his visit to Vanaheim for several days to enjoy the plentiful game the realm has to offer. He has generously agreed to allow his troops to return to Asgard, as promised."

The Princess furrowed her brows, her head tilting in confusion.

"I will alert the other generals. We will depart within the hour. Stay with him. Do _not_ let anyone in this tent, do you understand?"

Mutely, Brynja nodded.

x

Brynja quickly learned that Loki was the worst patient in all the Nine Realms. He complained, refused to stay still, threatened the healer and tried to bully the Princess. At the worst of it she resorted to letting the ill tyrant tire himself out with his huffing and puffing and then simply waiting until he was all tuckered out. Not unlike a toddler in a tantrum.

The King's "hunting" trip lasted for ten days. In addition to the healer, a small crew stayed behind to tend to Brynja and the illusive King, though they remained ignorant as to his condition. In order to keep his state secret, Brynja cared for him entirely herself aside from what only the healer could do. Under the guise of serving Loki simply because he wished it, similarly to how she served him before the troops departed, they were mostly left alone.

At caring for him she felt a certain level of disgust, but also a heady sense of self satisfaction at how dependent on her Loki was. With a sigh, the girl entered his tent carrying a tray of food.

"Come. I am hungry," he growled, wincing as he jarred his injury in an attempt to sit up.

The King's voice was still raspy from underuse. He'd spent the first days in an out of consciousness as his body fought the poison that had infiltrated his body. At first, it was uncertain if he would survive, despite the godly blood that ran through his veins. The poison was toxic and the healer battled against it for hours, exhausting herself from continuously using her magic.

Brynja didn't leave his side other than to communicate with the remaining camp. On the fifth day, his symptoms finally improved. Since then, he'd been slowly regaining strength. Though cantankerous from the moment he gained consciousness, his mood did turn slightly more pleasant as he healed.

In the tent the Princess neared the King, setting the tray on a stand near the bed. When she caught his eyes roaming her body, she had a notion he was feeling better.

"Can you eat on your own?"

Loki tested his strength by attempting to raise an arm and gave a dramatic sigh after barely lifting his extremity from the mattress. She was fairly certain he was more than competent, he just insisted on her waiting on him hand and foot.

"It would appear not," he said woefully.

"I should let you starve," muttered Brynja.

She dipped the spoon in his soup and carefully brought it to his lips. After thoroughly ogling the cleavage that appeared when she leaned over, he turned his face away in aversion.

"You didn't blow on it."

He tried to fight the smirk that threatened at the corner of his mouth as the girl glared at him. Brynja bit her cheek to keep from dumping the bowl of food on his lap. Instead, she blew on the liquid before returning the spoon to his mouth. He took it gratefully. He may have technically been able to feed himself, but that didn't mean the act was painless. Every time he moved he jarred his injury, and the pain was exhausting.

"We need to leave todoay."

"I'm far too weak."

"My King," she ground out, "This is not a game. Your subjects are surely wondering where you are. If you don't make an appearance soon, I fear what might happen."

Loki sobered and propped himself up with a pillow behind his back, making sure Brynja saw him wince. He took the spoon from her hand and motioned for the bowl, which she gladly handed over.

"I know," he murmured. "Give me one more day. You know I would not ask if I did not need it, Princess."

Solemnly she nodded as she placed a napkin in his lap.

"Then we leave tomorrow."

x

Brynja had never traveled using the Bifrost before. Unfortunately, no one had warned her about the unpleasant experience that was hopping from realm to realm. Once through, the girl slid from her horse and collapsed to her knees, retching. What little food was in her stomach made its way onto the iridescent surface of the Rainbow Bridge.

Loki paid her no mind as he continued forward, his body stiff and unyielding on his mount as he did his best to limit movement. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, a soldier helped Brynja back up onto her horse. She fought to keep her eyes ahead of her, warily keeping an eye on the king.

After an hour of riding the palace was finally within reach. Upon returning home, immediately Loki took Brynja to his rooms. Once the doors to his quarters closed, he stripped off his shirt and stood before the mirror, removing his bandages. Brynja watched in awe as his hand glowed green and he placed it over the wound. He growled in pain as open skin began to knit itself back together, grimacing as a dark scar appeared. He admired his handiwork in the mirror.

"You must be joking. You could cure yourself the entire time? Do you know how _scared_ I was?"

"Scared, were you little Brynja?"

"Not like that," she spat. "I was afraid your moronic self would pass leaving Vanaheim vulnerable once again."

Loki smirked.

"Initially, the poison stripped me of my power. I had to recover enough to regain my strength."

He touched the textured skin with a finger.

"I will likely sport the scar for the rest of my life, but it is mostly healed by now."

She stared at him incredulously.

"Thank you," he offered.

The girl rolled her eyes and set about unpacking his things, as she had none of her own. She startled when two cool hands wrapped around her waist.

"It has been too long since I have been able to properly exercise my authority over you, dear one. You were in charge much too long. Come, let us bathe."

Lips pursed together in irritation, the Princess reluctantly nodded. Loki called for servants to ready the great bath and once it was full of steaming, perfumed water, Loki led her in by the hand. The girl made to sit on a submerged bench but was roughly hefted into the King's lap instead. He forced her to face him as he ran his hands over her shoulders.

"You did well," he admitted.

Her cheeks, already pink from the heat of the water, flushed even darker.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He nodded, studying her.

Unable to meet his eye, she used a fingertip to gently trace around the angry purple scar on his chest. He hissed when she touched the sensitive skin, but allowed her to explore. Slowly he relaxed, his grip around her waist lessening. His hand grabbed her hip suddenly as he started. The girl had placed her lips against his scar to press a gentle kiss. He started at her with a brow raised, inviting her to explain herself. She shrugged.

"It is useful to me that you are no longer ailing," she said, doing her best to mimic his indifference.

The King chuckled and pulled her closer. She swore she'd never get used to the feeling of his cock hardening against her thigh, and to her embarrassment she felt herself growing wet at the thought of him taking her once again. It had been a long eleven days and she was so busy there was simply no time to worry about her own sexual satisfaction.

"If you say so, pet," he rumbled against her jaw.

Quietly she began to bristle but her minor tantrum was cut short when he bit at her earlobe. Whatever her response, it died on her lips and turned into a needy moan. His hand slid up her hip to cup her breast and his fingers eagerly coaxed the dusky skin of her nipple to attention. With a groan of his own Loki replaced his hand with his mouth, forcing the girl to grip his shoulders when she grew distracted and unstable in his lap.

"My King," she whimpered as her hips thrust against him.

"Do you need something, my little peach?"

Desperately she nodded her head. Loki's cock was already straining against her thigh and he simply didn't have the patience to continue teasing the poor girl. He lifted her and she obediently spread her legs as he guided his cock into her hot core. Both moaned at the contact, the Princess' back arching and pressing her breasts against his chest.

"Did you ever imagine a life like this, little girl? While you practiced embroidery and comportment, did you fantasize about being wanton and needy in the arms of a king?"

Brynja responded with a rough thrust of her hips, forcing groans from both of them.

"There you are," he murmured against her jaw.

Angrily the Princess pressed her lips to his, scooping her hips rhythmically as she attacked his mouth. With a grunt he cupped the back of her head, nipping at her lip as he returned the kiss with equal fervor. His free hand squeezed her hip as she thrust, forcing the girl to ride him even harder. Greedily Brynja drank from his mouth, moaning and sighing against his lips as he guided her over his length. She found kissing him to be an effective way of shutting him up, plus his lips against hers made her core throb even harder. Insistently he guided her velvety walls over his hard shaft, rubbing her in just the right way and slamming her down on his lap so that her clit ground against him. Her cries quickly morphed into helpless keening as he helped her ride him, thrusting his own hips up against hers with a grunt. White stars blinded Brynja as she came, her hips thrusting involuntarily against her King's as her walls squeezed around his shaft. She was completely gone when Loki squeezed both of her hips and violently thrust up into her as he sought his own completion. Surely she'd be sore in the morning, but he couldn't be bothered by the fact. His own vision faded around the edges as he came with a shout, coating the inside of her pussy with his thick come.

They both sat there panting, Loki's arms wrapped around Brynja's middle and her head resting on his shoulder. Once she caught her breath she stiffened, raising her head and squirming from his lap. He chuckled as she quickly recalled her aversion to him and watched her lazily as she dug for soap on the side of the bath. Completely ignoring him, she began to wash herself, ignorant of the King's hungry and thoughtful gaze.


	8. Ignite the Heat

"Absolutely not," he snapped.

When Brynja stamped her foot, Loki steepled his fingers as he considered his captive. He shook his head in dissent.

"You forget your place, little girl."

She toyed with the end of a curl, briefly looking away.

"You're the one that dragged me here, you said yourself that I'm an ambassador for my people. Remember? I showed you how well we express _gratitude_. I have a right to speak on their behalf."

Loki's eyes glazed over as he remembered that night in his tents. Her oral performance had been an admirable representation, but that didn't mean she got to order him about. Truly, he had no issue with her request aside from the fact that she was making it.

Again, she squared her shoulders and clenched her jaw.

"You have noble families in those pens. Remove them. Now."

He rose and stalked to her, towering over Brynja's shorter form. The girl glared, her eyes narrowed into little slits as she backed up against the stone wall. Despite his herding her into a corner, she continued speaking.

"The Vanir are an understanding people to an extent, my King. But everyone has their limits. It's humiliating to keep them locked up. Free them."

He stared at her, eyes calculating. Brynja blinked up at him, sticking her chin out defiantly.

"You've grown bold since I was shot," he mused, resting his outstretched palms against the wall on either side of her face. He smiled when her brows rose in what he assumed was about to become surrender.

The Princess' eyes searched his, desperately trying to determine if his mood was playful or punitive. Her breaths came in short pants and in the back of her mind she grew irritated that he affected her so. The girl wasn't out of breath from exertion, it was his proximity that made her chest flutter.

As his gaze turned hungry, she panicked. She was fairly certain they were no longer discussing the Vanir brought to Asgard in chains. Brynja tried to duck under his arm to put space between them, but his hand darted out, wrapping in her sleek, dark hair. He held her fast.

"Very bold, it seems."

The girl hesitated, attempting to gauge whether or not she could break free if she ran. She'd rather not lose a hunk of hair. Instead, the Princess forfeited and straightened as much as his hold allowed.

Loki completely invaded her space, forcing her body against the cold stone with his own. The girl had potential, but her attitude would be her downfall. Two uncontrollable royal tempers in one castle wouldn't bode well for anyone. That, and King had such a lovely time stoking her fire, he couldn't help himself sometimes. He just had to teach her some self-restraint. He studied her.

"Have you ever tried _asking_ me for something?"

She stuttered and flexed her fingers at her sides. Slightly dumbfounded, she contemplated for a moment before shaking her head.

"Well—I suppose not. Will you please release the Vanir captives?"

"No."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. He was a child!

"You're impossible to get along with! Did you not have siblings? You seem to lack a basic understanding of negotiation and diplomacy."

Loki stiffened and released her hair and instead snatched her wrists, pulling them above her head.

"My _brother_ ," he sneered _, "_ is on Midgard, banished for his insolence. He is fortunate to be alive after the treason he committed."

He was practically snarling. Clearly she'd struck a nerve.

"While we are speaking of siblings," he murmured, a lecherous smile curving across his lips.

Brynja winced. She never should've brought it up.

"You said my father promised fealty in exchange for their safety," she reminded him.

Loki shrugged.

"I am King. I do what I like."

Shakily she nodded. He continued.

"Mm. The second I speak of your sisters, you adopt the most pleasant demeanor, Princess."

Brynja shook her head in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Keeping her wrists pinned above her head, he ran his hand up along her side, dragging his fingers over her hip and tummy until they came to rest on her breast. Gently, he squeezed, coaxing a shiver from her.

"Your eye contact falters, your voice grows softer. Suddenly you are much more agreeable," he murmured against her ear. "Just when I think I have started to banish your willfulness, it makes itself known once again. What shall we do about this, hm?"

Brynja whined softly in fear for her sisters. She turned her face slightly, seeking his lips with her own. It was the only way she knew how to placate him. She spread each of her legs on both sides of his thigh and ground herself against him. He smiled against her mouth as she kissed him, and she took the opportunity to suck his tongue. He groaned before pushing her away.

"You are learning quickly to use what lies between your legs, little Brynja, but it won't get you out of every situation that mouth of yours finds you in."

Loki kissed his way to her neck and nipped, surely leaving a mark. The King was genuinely impressed with her efforts, but her actions were not forgiven. He murmured against her skin.

"Perhaps you need a reminder of who is in charge."

As his words registered she tried to pull back, anxious to read the expression on his face. She never got the chance. Chains spilled from the wall behind her and silver snakes wound around her wrists before hardening into metal, holding her fast. Brynja sputtered indignantly when he shot her a stern look. She immediately quieted, testing the strength of her bonds by experimentally pulling at them. Damn. They were as strong as the thick chains implied.

"What are you going to do, leave me here?"

Distractedly Loki shook his head. He was far too busy unfastening her dress from her golden collar to pay mind to what the girl was saying. Tugging at ties in both the front and back, the material immediately fluttered to her feet, leaving her completely nude. Brynja shivered, her nipples promptly hardening into firm little peaks. This alone make Loki smirk.

"No, dear one. I am not going to leave you," he crooned, pushing her thick, dark hair back behind her shoulders to better see her chest, which was pleasantly heaving up and down as she glared.

He considered her quietly. Something was different. Her eyes amber eyes flashed brighter than normal. Somehow she must have gotten her hands on some kajal from home. Her eyes were rimmed with smokey kohl that made them stand out, framed by her long, sooty lashes. His thumb caressed the top of her cheekbone, near the corner of her eye.

"I like this. My exotic little Vana."

Brynja scoffed. She hardly looked different from him aside from the fact that her skin was golden. She supposed she did have a faint accent that worsened when he made her angry, which was… often. Perhaps her cognac eyes were more almond shaped and certainly a different shade than his green, but the girl had dark hair and shared the King's height and slender build. However, she did stand at least a head shorter than the seven-foot man. If he thought her liner exotic, clearly he needed to get out more.

Loki startled her when he began sliding down her body, gripping her hips to steady himself as he knelt. She made a noise of surprise in the back of her throat when he lifted one of her legs and rested her calf on his shoulder, effectively opening her to him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. He gazed up at her with a carnal look of lust.

"But, I'm chained!"

Loki bit her inner thigh, causing her to squeal and squirm. Briefly he pulled away, only bringing his mouth from her skin to speak clearly.

"As I said before, little girl: I do as I want."

He licked the shallow indentations left by his teeth, coaxing a begrudging moan from his captive, who was desperately trying to balance on one foot. She'd be damned if she encouraged his lewd behavior by leaning on him.

"I thought you were punishing me."

The King ignored her. He nipped her once more before hoisting her leg even higher on his shoulder and leaning in, using the broad, flat surface of his tongue to lave along her slit.

"Ooh!"

Brynja tremored and almost lost her balance. She vaguely wondered how on earth the man knew how to do these things that made her body react so wantonly, but his smooth baritone voice distracted her from her thoughts.

"Be my guest, little peach. Sling your other leg over my shoulder. I will hold you up as you come apart for me."

The girl adamantly refused and stubbornly balanced once more as Loki spread her open with his fingers, revealing her little hooded clit. She gasped softly as the cold air of his room hit her hot flesh, and couldn't hold back her cry when Loki's tongue darted out to taste her. She writhed, fighting his tongue, the hold he had on her leg and her chains. The poor thing didn't stand a chance. He reduced her to a puddle with a lick of his damn tongue and she hated it. Loki teased her with little licks and laps, never touching him tongue to the same place twice and constantly keeping her guessing.

Brynja gasped when he slyly slipped two fingers inside her, his eyes on hers as they glided into her slick entrance. Her mouth hung open in pleasure as he crooked the tips, brushing them against that little spot inside her that made her see white. Her back arched against the stone wall in an attempt to shove her hips at his hand, silently begging him to fingerfuck her faster, harder. He chuckled and shook his head. She was not in charge. Gingerly he probed her, going much too slow for her to even near an orgasm. With an ornery buck of her hips she glared down at him.

Her angry train of thought was interrupted when his mouth joined his fingers, sealing gently around her clit. Her head fell back against the stone wall as pressure began to build in her belly. After several pulses of his mouth, Loki stopped. She cried out in disappointed need.

"Look at me," he rasped.

Brynja fought to keep her eyes open, her gaze on him as he returned to his task. He stared at her as his tongue flicked at her clit and his fingers leisurely stroked inside her. With a whimper she began to tremble. She gave in, resting some of her weight on the leg over his shoulder to keep from collapsing and dangling from her chains. The King's tongue flicked at her swollen clit and the sensitivity made her twitch and jerk involuntarily, which he very much enjoyed. Lazily he lapped at her, pumping his fingers into her cunt at a carefree pace. His captive was going to learn her place tonight.

After several long, languid licks, Loki stopped once more and rose. Though he gently dropped her leg, his fingers never left her and he never broke eye contact.

Brynja's jaw worked up and down, as if trying to speak. The King quirked a brow.

"Have you something to say?"

The Princess gave a choked whimper. She couldn't think like this. It was all too much. She swore the man completely disarmed her normally sensible brain when he touched her. He smirked and began once more. Loki's long digits slipped between her folds and he leaned forward, nuzzling her as he began fucking her with his fingers while they both stood.

"I'm listening," he murmured against her ear.

The girl managed a tortured whine as he gradually increased his pace, aided by the slick now coating her pussy and thighs. Desperately she clutched at her chains as her thinking grew fuzzy. As his fingers stroked her, her ability to think dissolved. He ground his cock against her hip as he worked, whispering to her as she quivered.

"You will remember this lesson," he breathed. "Who is in charge?"

Brynja managed a moan, but couldn't force words to leave her mouth. Loki was relentless. He _would_ hear her say it before the night was over.

"If you want to come for me, you will answer the question, little peach."

All the poor girl could do was whimper and shake her head, her hips fighting to thrust against his questing hand. After a moment, he realized she was whispering something. Curiously, he held his ear closer to her lips.

"Pleasepleaseplease," she chanted, her head whipping back and forth as she uselessly pumped her hips.

She was not getting off that easily. She needed to be reminded of her place, which was beneath him. She may be a Princess, but she was also his whore and the girl seemed to forget the fact. More importantly, she was _his_. Taking slight pity on the girl he asked once more, each word accented by a deliciously rough thrust of his hand.

"Who. Is. In. Charge?"

Brynja keened, her head falling back against the wall as her entire body shivered. _Finally_ she was able to choke out an answer.

"You!"

Loki's lips curled into a devious smile.

"Good girl," he cooed as his hand increased speed, slamming his fingers into her over and over and over. Brynja's back arched and her mouth opened in a silent scream as her hips bucked against his hand. The heat at the base of her spine exploded, radiating pleasure from the tips of her toes to her fingers. The walls of her cunt clenched around him as he fucked her through her orgasm, and finally a proper scream tore from her mouth, echoing in his expansive rooms.

When she was finished, she hung limply, unable to hold herself up. Vaguely she registered the sound of a belt and heavy fabric falling to the floor, but she was still too far gone for the noises to carry any significance. It wasn't until Loki gripped her thighs and lifted her, relieving her arms as he cradled her that she remembered he was even there. Still panting, she looked up at him wearily. By the time she recognized the feeling of his steely flesh pressing against her opening, it was too late. She cried out as he sheathed himself inside her, his pelvis grinding against her overly sensitive clit.

Brutally he began thrusting, her chains clanking with each rough pump of his hips. She tried holding onto them, trying to gain even the smallest semblance of control, but she was far too weak.

Brynja watched as Loki's eyes stared, unmoving, at where he entered her. She gazed at his face, his brows furrowed in with effort and his eyes narrowed in concentration. And it was all for her. His arousal at watching her come apart for him, the pleasure he felt now and the orgasm he sought was all because of her. As her toes began to curl in delirious satisfaction once more, she felt a pang in her stomach. The words left her mouth before she could think.

"Unchain me? Please?"

Blushing furiously, she boldly looked him in the eye when his gaze fixated on her. His eyes were glassy. Her words hadn't registered. Gritting her teeth in concentration, she managed to tug at her chains hard enough that they clanked together, hopefully indicating what she wanted.

"Please?"

Though he never stopped pumping his hips, his face grew serious for a moment. Her heart froze, terrified that he was going to laugh or mock her and she looked away. He grunted at her.

"Why?"

Hopeful, she looked back up at him.

"So I can touch you? Please?"

She may more or less be a prisoner, but a girl has needs and at the moment she very much felt the need to cling to him, not to her cold, hard chains. Loki watched her accusingly for a moment before muttering something gruffly and giving a sharp nod of his head. Pressing her against the wall to keep her up, he waved a hand and the chains slid back into the wall, leaving no trace. The serpentine cuffs remained coiled around her wrists, but she was at least free to grasp his shoulders.

When Loki resumed pummeling her with his cock, his gaze never left hers. The coil in her belly built differently this time. The intensity of his stare was completely unnerving, but she found she couldn't look away. She squirmed, growing uncomfortable with how fierce his eyes grew, so she did the only thing she could think of. She managed to tilt her head, pressing her lips to his and kissing him shyly. Brynja gasped against his mouth when he thrust especially hard. Apparently he approved. Emboldened, she ran the tip of her tongue against the seam of his lips, timidly seeking permission. Loki, of course, granted it, biting and nipping at her lips as she kissed him earnestly.

Spurred on by her impromptu affections, the King's hips snapped against her with such force that she had to wrap her arms around his neck and shoulder to keep her balance. Loki kissed her savagely, his hips thrusting wildly in search of completion. Brynja yelped, clinging to him as he drilled her. Her orgasm hit her off guard the second time. What had been gradual, growing heat burst into flames and she screamed as she came on his length. His jaw clenched as her walls fluttered around him, squeezing his cock and doing everything biologically possible to coax an orgasm from him as well.

With a roar, he lost control, surely bruising the poor girl's back as he fucked her against the wall. His head dropped back as his come erupted into her tight core, thoroughly coating her and claiming her as his.

"Fuck," he grunted, breathing hard and resting his forehead against hers.

Brynja cleared her throat and attempted to sit up somewhat straight in his grasp.

"Please will you let them out?"

The King fought a smirk.

"That was very good, little Brynja. Convince me several more times and I will consider it."


	9. I Can Take You

The next day, when an older Vana noblewoman dressed in an Asgardian gown approached Brynja in the hallways, the Princess almost dropped her letter of appeal. She'd drafted a formal request addressed to "her captor" regarding the proposed release of her people from the dismal prison camps in which they were currently held. On their passage over the Rainbow Bridge, the Princess had seen the same woman dirty and chained to other captives, yet now she was clean and dressed to properly reflect her status. The Noblewoman clasped her hands together, her eyes shining with gratitude as she spoke with Brynja.

"Thank you, Princess, thank you. My family has been reunited and we are quite happy with the accommodations we have been allowed. Thank you for speaking with the King on behalf of our release. Word of your bravery and kindness will travel to Vanaheim, child. Your father will be proud."

Brynja fought the urge to baulk, struggling to maintain composure in front of the stranger while her letter almost fluttered loose from her hand. She remained stunned for several seconds before clearing her throat and forcing herself to stand straighter and smile.

"Thank you for your kind words, my Lady. I was only doing what was necessary."

The woman curtsied and Brynja offered a small smile as both continued on their way. The rhythm of the quiet clicking of Brynja's shoes on the stone castle floors increased as she replayed the situation in her head, realizing that Loki had released her people without telling her. How dare he? He had teased her. She'd used every sexual trick and technique he'd taught her last night in order to barter for her people's freedom, yet when she asked him after he'd had her if he would release them, he'd adamantly refused. She stormed to the King's favored solar, only to be stopped by two armed guards. They stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the doors. One took a step forward and shook his head.

"I apologize, Princess. The King is occupied. You may not enter."

Brynja glowered for a moment before stepping back.

"I will speak with him _now_."

"I am afraid I cannot allow that. His Majesty said he's not to be disturbed."

Brynja smiled and nodded her head, taking a step back as if she were retreating, before raising her voice and yelling through the thick doors.

"Loki!"

The poor men rushed to quiet the woman, but she hissed and sent one cursing after a sharp kick to the shin. The solar doors flew open violently and an enraged Loki emerged, his eyes narrowed to slits as he sought the cause of the ruckus. When they flicked between his incapacitated guard, Brynja, and the second man struggling to contain the situation, his aggravation waned and his face relaxed. He chuckled.

"Ah, my little Princess."

Though it had been not yet twelve hours since he'd had her last, his eyes raked over her body hungrily. She was dressed in a flowing apricot gown that complemented her golden skin nicely. Her arms and shoulders gleamed with the sheen of a light oil the healers had rubbed into her skin after a post Bi-Frost examination that morning. When her cheeks colored from embarrassment at her King finding her in such a state, it only added to her appeal. Loki bit back a groan.

He strode to his captive and immediately his guards peeled away from the girl, who was panting with effort. Hesitantly her eyes rose until they met Loki's. He tilted her chin up with a finger.

"Did you need something, dearest? Something pressing enough that you attacked my guards?"

Brynja's cheeks bloomed with even more color. She shook her head, her dark curls flowing over her shoulders as she did so.

"I didn't mean to attack them," she muttered, unable to meet his gaze. With a huff she steeled herself, shaking her chin out of his hand and working up the courage to look him in the eye again. She cleared her throat.

"We need to speak."

"We do, my little Brynja. But first, would you like to see what's been keeping me so occupied?"

With an elegant brow raised suspiciously, Brynja nodded.

"Very well," he took her arm, leading her into the solar.

The Princess gasped softly. There were several half naked young girls scrambling to dress themselves as the King and his captive returned to the room.

"Ladies," Loki purred.

The poor girls stumbled into a line side by side and curtsied, some while still rushing to cover themselves. Brynja watched them for a moment, all with pink cheeks and none able to meet her gaze. What was this? Had Loki just _had_ them all? Her cheeks flamed in humiliation as she looked upon her competition. She hadn't realized he was still interested in other women, which was incredibly naïve of her. Of course he was. He was the King. He could have whomever he wished. Her stomach rolled. What if he married one of these girls instead of her? Though none were clothed as opulently as she, their dresses were all quite fashionable and in colors that suited their golden Vanir complexions. Brynja was terrified that she was about to lose the only manner in which she had any sway as to what happened at home in Vanaheim. If Loki chose one of them instead of her…

"Girls, I'm sure you recognize your Princess," Loki drawled, interrupting her thoughts. "As you know, you ladies are to be her handmaidens. Dote on her every need and keep her happy, or you'll find yourselves in much less desirable positions, likely serving Asgardian men instead of residing in the palace serving a single Vana woman," he winked.

All four girls' heads bobbed enthusiastically, clearly motivated to treat their royal mistress with the utmost care to avoid slipping into the position of professional whore.

Brynja stood stunned, blinking slowly as she took in Loki's words. Her handmaidens? She did her best to release her sigh of relief quietly. _Not_ her marital competition. While Brynja was still looking at the girls in minor shock, Loki waved his hand dismissively and they gathered their things and fled, but not before offering their King and Princess dainty curtsies and murmured words of thanks.

Loki strode to the table near his desk and poured himself a goblet of wine as Brynja watched him with a quirked brow.

"You gave me handmaidens," she stated suspiciously.

He set the flagon on the table and boredly ran his fingers along the silk tablecloth beneath it.

"Of course I did. A Queen doesn't bother with insignificant matters herself. I thought you may be more comfortable with… creatures from your own Realm."

Brynja licked her lip in thought as she attempted to process.

"They were prisoners as well? I-I just passed a Vana noblewoman, she said her family had been reunited and given land... You freed them all?"

Loki nodded dismissively, taking several long drinks of the liquid until the alcohol burned pleasantly in his belly. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she attempted speech, but she was too shocked at Loki's unexpected kindness in releasing the Vanir prisoners, let alone allowing them to serve her, to form a proper sentence. He smirked at his Princess' inability to speak. He ignored her comment about his releasing of all the prisoners. He had no interest in her gratitude in that moment. There were other things on his mind. But first things first.

"You only just missed the seamstress. Those poor dears were dressed in rags and needed new garments before I could allow them to serve you. I just sent her to find you, actually. You're in need of a wardrobe that reflects your status as well," he motioned in distaste at her attire.

Momentarily distracted, Brynja forgot her anger, suspicion and embarrassment as she glanced down at her dress in what was now mild irritation. There was nothing wrong with her gown. Distracted, she didn't hear Loki move behind her. She gasped as the King ghosted his cool fingers over her shoulder blades, then idly toyed with the sleeves of her gown as he nuzzled the tip of his nose against her cheek.

"Tell me what was going through your head when I introduced your handmaidens, pet."

Brynja froze. Had he noticed her immediate anger? It wouldn't do for him realize she felt threatened by the innocent girls. Knowing her insecurities would only give him more power over her.

"I was just confused," she whispered, attempting to turn and face him.

Loki gathered her hair in his hand and pulled, keeping her in place with a tug.

"I saw the expression on your face, pet. Were you worried I found someone else to warm my bed?"

His free hand splayed against the swell of her hip and her breath hitched as he dragged his palm up and along her stomach. He plucked at the ties of the front of her dress, smiling in satisfaction as her breathing visibly stuttered. Allowing her breasts free of their confines, Loki released his grip on her hair and slid his arm around her so that he cupped one globe in each hand. Thoroughly entertained at her inability to speak, he growled against the shell of her ear.

"Were you?"

As his deft fingers rolled her hardening nipples, Brynja sighed, her head falling back against his shoulder. Vaguely she realized he'd asked her something. She couldn't manage to join words together to ask him to repeat himself. She could merely utter a sound of uncertainty.

"Hmm?"

"Were you worried?"

He accented his question with a tug to both nipples. Softly she cried out, her fingers wrapping around his wrists to eagerly encourage his attention. She knew she was expected to respond, but his inquiry had yet to register in her poor, overwhelmed brain. She yelped when he pinched each bud between his fingers and angrily she tried to struggle from his grasp, clutching her dress to her chest in an attempt to preserve her modesty. Easily he collected her wrists in one hand and herded her back against his desk. Loki lifted her and immediately began rucking her skirt up around her thighs and knocking her legs apart. His fingers slid between her legs as he pressed his lips against hers teasingly.

"Answer me, little Brynja," he spoke against her lips.

The Princess panted against his mouth and whined, vexed at his insistence when she was so clearly struggling to function.

"I-I thought that… Perhaps you were finished with me. That you'd grown tired of me."

Loki chuckled and dragged his mouth to her jaw and nipped gently, making her breath hitch. She pushed at him in irritation, annoyed that he was toying with her at such a time. This, unsurprisingly, only made him laugh. He wrapped his fingers around her throat, forcing her chin up so she had to look him in the eye.

"You have far too much fight in you for me to grow weary of your charms, little girl," he purred, using his free hand to knock her arms away, which were shielding her chest. Without her hands holding it up, the unlaced bodice of her dress fell around her waist. Her fingers itched to cover her bare breasts but the look Loki shot her dared her to defy him. Instead, she swallowed hard, sat up straight and flicked her hair over her shoulder, looking at him haughtily as he ran his thumb along the column of her throat.

"Little Brynja," he murmured thoughtfully.

Releasing her neck, he trailed his cool fingertips along her collarbone, tracing them over the swell of one of her breasts to the puckered rosy bud of her nipple. Tilting his head, he curiously drew a circle around the dusky skin, smirking as it hardened even further beneath his ministrations. Taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he tugged gently as his mouth descended on her other bud. Brynja gasped, her hands immediately burying themselves in his hair and squeezing the silky strands between her fingers as her head fell back.

"Loki," she whispered hoarsely, her core beginning to throb.

He hummed against her skin as his tongue teased her, lapping and suckling at her as she shivered. With a grunt, Loki reluctantly pulled away, his eyes fixated on her chest. She stared at him with uncertainty, growing incredibly self-conscious as his eyes refused to leave her breasts. Just as her hands rose to cover herself, his mouth descended on the other peak and her fingers found their way back into his hair as she sighed contentedly.

The attention he paid to her chest assuaged her temper enough that when he pressed her backwards, she willingly lay on his desk. He groaned as he looked at her, her dark hair spread around her shoulders and her hooded lids making him groan. Loki reached for his belt and quickly unfastened his trousers, stepping forward as they fell unceremoniously around his ankles. Brynja watched him quietly as he pushed her skirt up around her thighs and she obediently spread her legs.

Loki quirked a dark brow at her acquiescent display.

"So compliant, Brynja? What's this?"

The girl glared at him and attempted to hook her ankles around his waist, but he stepped out of her reach. She was wet and throbbing and didn't have the patience for an interrogation about her cooperation.

"Something has changed," he growled, his narrowing gaze accusing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh of her breasts.

Immediately Brynja stammered and shook her head, trying to sit up. Loki closed the distance between them and placed a hand over her heart to shove her backwards until she lay flat. His voice was not friendly.

"Why do you play at wanting this?"

The Princess' eyes widened and she shook her head. It took her a moment before she had the gall to speak.

"I'm not playing," she whispered.

Loki laughed condescendingly and knocked her thighs apart to run a finger against her slit. His breath caught as his finger delved into her wet folds. Brynja's face flushed and she looked down, her legs shaking in effort to keep from closing them.

"You want this," he said plainly.

Trying to look braver than she felt, Brynja licked her lip and nodded solemnly. The corner of Loki's mouth quirked into a grin, which turned the girl's dignified expression into a scowl. Of course he'd gloat. Her mind was spinning, yelling at her all of the reasons she should've fought him off in the first place as she attempted to sit up and dismount from the desk. Distracted by her own ire, Brynja didn't realize that Loki was holding his throbbing erection in one hand as he hiked one of her legs around his waist. With a frustrated shout she struggled, only to be pushed back against the desk as the King slammed into her cunt roughly, knocking the air from her lungs.

"Ooh!"

Loki, not unaffected by her tight, throbbing heat, panted as he looked down at her.

"My pretty little toy," he murmured, tracing a fingertip along her lower lip. "You'll be an even better queen for me than I thought if you're already this eager for my cock."

Completely scandalized, Brynja groaned and squirmed beneath him, which didn't improve her situation. It felt good, it just didn't change anything. Loki grunted as she moved and leaned forward, pressing both palms flat against the desk on either side of her face, effectively caging her between his hands. Hips lips hovered inches from hers.

"Enough," he hissed as his mouth descended.

Without hesitation his tongue licked the seam of her mouth, demanding entrance. For a moment the girl contemplated struggling, but when he began to move his hips, she gasped in pleasure and therefore forfeited the game of tongues as his slipped into her mouth. Unable to help herself, and incapable of doing much more than cling to him, she sucked at his oral muscle, making them both moan.

Loki's hips bucked brutally against the soft flesh of her thighs, coaxing soft cries from the girl as he fucked her. As he beat down her wall of defiance, Brynja found her lips reciprocating the kiss as he worked her mouth hungrily against his. She shuddered as the coil deep inside her began winding itself tightly, making her arch her back up off the desk and press against Loki earnestly. The man was infuriating, but the way he touched her redeemed him. Somewhat.

She squeezed her thighs around his hips and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding herself against him as he took her. They broke their kiss and breathed harshly, both struggling to think properly as his hips continued to drive his length deep into her channel.

"My King," Brynja whimpered against his ear.

For a brief second, Loki froze. His wild, fierce little captive submissively using such a respectful title made his sac draw in tight and his hips stutter. With renewed vigor he surged forward, earning a shriek from the girl as his pelvis ground against her clit.

"Come for me, little Princess," he crooned in her ear.

With a wail, Brynja obeyed, falling completely apart beneath him as the spring in her lower belly exploded free. Pleasure radiated from her spine and for a moment, her vision went black as she gasped through the ecstasy. Loki grit his teeth as she came, dutifully fucking her through her orgasm until the walls of her tight pussy relaxed around his cock.

"Good girl," he growled, sweat gathering at his brow as his hips rolled.

"Now, again."

Brynja cried out as his hand slipped between them, his fingers seeking out her clit and using slick of her pussy to rub firm circles. Her back arched and her nails dug into his fair skin, leaving half-moon prints that welled with blood. Loki's hips stuttered as he found completion as once again her pussy contracted around him, repeatedly burying his cock in his captive's welcoming cunt until he'd fucked every ounce of cum he had into her. With a groan, he rested his weight on her and lay his forehead against her shoulder. Shyly she ran her fingers through his hair as he caught his breath.

Their recovery was interrupted by muffled voices and a knock on the door.

"Enter," Loki called as he refastened his trousers.

Brynja cried out incredulously, struggling to cover herself as the seamstress entered the solar.

"Your Highness, I cannot find the Prin—Oh dear!"

Quickly averting her eyes, the poor woman turned to flee, only to be stopped by the King's voice.

"I found her for you, my dear. She's ready for her fitting, I even started divesting her of her old garments. There's no need to thank me."

Brynja's cheeks were red with anger and humiliation and her eyes narrowed to slits as she jumped off the desk, digging her fingers into the fabric of her gown to keep from throttling the infantile king.

"I want you on my arm in an hour, Brynja. Do not give this woman any trouble."

The Princess bit her cheek and nodded, holding still as Loki pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. Her eyes blazed with anger as he casually exited the room, closing the door behind him and leaving the two women alone.


End file.
